Moments Known and Unknown
by Montreat11
Summary: Part of the Moments Series. Belles perspective on everything that happens in the Enchanted Forest beginning with the deal she made with Rumpelstiltskin and ending with the moment the curse hits in her cell.
1. Once Upon a Time

She had taken lately to reading in the war counsel room. No one seemed to notice her, or think much of her being there, if she sat in the corner and read a book. But it wasn't just so that she could read, in fact if anyone ever watched closely enough, they'd notice that she rarely turned a page. Secretly, she sat in here so she could listen to what was happening with the war. It seemed sinister, to have to spy like this, but, if she didn't, she knew the answers that she would get when she asked about what was going on in the world. "Oh never you mind, Princess. I'm sure your father and Gaston will take care of it." She hated that answer. And if there was anything her days of sitting here had proved it was that they were not taking care of it. They had reached the end of their rope, the options were gone, and they all seemed to be anxiously and nervously awaiting the results of their last hope. She could feel the tension sitting there, probably because she had heard of this man that they'd sent an offer to, and she wasn't sure if "hope" was how she would describe him.

Suddenly the door to the room opened and there was an intake of breath, which was quickly released as one of her father's soldiers came in. It wasn't him. Everyone silently gathered around the table, holding a map of her father's kingdom. Even she shut her book and clutched it to her chest as she strode over to listen carefully. No one noticed. The soldier placed a note into one of the advisors hands. "Sir, there's news from the battle field," he unfolded the note and paused for a moment. It was bad news, she could tell from his fallen face. "Avonlea has fallen," he said letting the words fall from his mouth and sink into their bellies like rocks in an ocean.

Her jaw dropped and she looked around the room over to Gaston, who appeared to be choosing his facial expression based on what everyone else was doing. It didn't surprise her that it was taking a moment to process in his mind. But everyone else, they all knew just the same as she did: this was bad. "Oh my gods," she heard her father mutter tonelessly, in shock.

"If only he had come," Gaston said darkly, finally catching on.

"Well he didn't, did he!" her father yelled at him over the top of her head. She knew he wasn't actually angry at Gaston, that boy could do no wrong in his eyes, he was only disappointed and disheartened at what was happening to the world he had built. He walked away from the table, discouraged. "Ogres are not men!" he tossed over his shoulder, before slumping down onto his throne.

"We have to do something!" Gaston said, offering little but the reminder of failure "We have to stop them!" The words were poorly chosen. Of course they had to do something to stop this, but when every option was exhausted it seemed hopeless. Her father knew this, it was why he suddenly looked like a very old man instead of a man of noble blood. She couldn't let him give in this easily. He had to keep faith, keep believing. The entire room was looking to him for support and encouragement and if he didn't offer it, then they would lose heart. And if that happened they may as well surrender this moment. Besides, hope wasn't completely gone yet. For all they knew the last chance they were waiting for just hadn't shown up yet. It was a long shot but it was more than any of the other brave soldiers in the room seemed to offer. She set her book down and stepped easily around the men, then sank down next to her father's defeated form, taking his hand in her own.

"They are unstoppable," he muttered.

"He could be on his way right now, Papa," she reminded him. But the expression on his face never changed.

"It's too late, my Belle," he muttered "it's just too late." She felt useless. And seeing her father in this state only made her feel worse. She wished she could do something, wished that there was something that would help the situation. But she knew there was nothing. Even if she did have a spark of an idea, no one here would listen to her anyway.

Suddenly something pounded on the door, startling her, and everyone else in the strained room. Her heart leapt with something that resembled excitement and nervous energy. For the possibility that someone else could do what she couldn't. "Its him! It has to be!" There was no one else that they were expecting, which left only one possibility at who was knocking. She didn't care what she'd heard about the monster, if he could ease her father's mind and save her village then no matter what he asked would be worth it.

Her father stood and they approached the door together. "How could he get passed the walls," he muttered, almost nervously. "Open it!" he yelled at the guards who obeyed thoughtlessly. The tension seemed to heightened as she clutched her father's arm and heard Gaston draw his sword cautiously; the only thing he really knew how to do. But as the doors opened she stared in confusion, they all did. There was no one there.

"Well that was a bit of a letdown," they all jumped at the unknown voice, and turned quickly to see a man, no, creature really, sitting on the seat that was supposed to be her fathers. He gave a playful giggle as they stared, like something was funny but no one in the room jested with him. Everyone stood stalk still, taking in the sight of him. He looked like a man, well he had the body form of one: two arms, two legs, a head full of hair, two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. But his skin, his skin was a strange color, gold, slightly greenish even. And his eyes, they reminded her of a lizards eyes. Cunning and shifty, like they could see straight through her and pick up on every detail. She found herself trying not to sneer at the strange man, if she could even call him that.

Gaston pulled his sword and approached him like the threat the roll in her belly told her he was. "You sent me a message," the stranger said in a high pitched voice "something about 'Help! Help! We're dying! Can you save us?'" he mocked giving them a childlike smile. She glanced at her father. This! This was really their last option? "Now the answer is," he stood, glaring at Gaston, paying no heed to the sword in his hand "yes!" he batted the weapon away like it was made of wood, "I can." He tossed a tower from the map, that she hadn't noticed that he was playing with, at one of the advisors. He caught it but only just barely. No one seemed to be able to focus on anything but this creature.

She couldn't help it, strange and mysterious as he was, she was impressed with the way that he commanded the attention in the room. She found herself wishing that she could do that just as easily, she wished she could make people listen to her. "Yes I can protect your little town," he continued, his tone changing ever so slightly. He walked around the table and suddenly pointed a finger at her father "for a price," he said maliciously. No wonder his tone had changed. She knew that his 'protection' wasn't going to come cheap. Clearly he'd never heard of doing something for the common good just because it was the right thing to do. This was a good kingdom with good people, but if he was going to demand payment, they would pay it. They would have to, the kingdom was looking to them for help, they wouldn't ignore them.

"We sent you a promise of gold," her father insisted, seeming to find his voice and stepping up to him.

"Ah! Now you see, um, I, uh, make gold!" he said like it was the most obvious, idiotic, thing in the world to suggest. Now that she thought about it, it was. Even she had heard that much about him. "What I want is something a bit more special," she didn't like the tone of his voice, it make her stomach turn nervously. "My price," he paused "is her".

Her? Her?! Was he pointing at her?! She couldn't tell because he had barely seemed to notice her, just like everyone else in the room. But from the way that her father was now looking at her, and the way Gaston had put his arm out in front of her told her that she wasn't mistaken, he was talking about her. "No!" her father said, less than convincingly. It was a strange feeling. No one had ever noticed her before, but now they seemed to all be staring at her. And the way some of them were looking at her sickened her, like she wasn't a woman or even a person any more, but collateral. Some of them were actually considering this! Her heart was jumping erratically. Never had she thought that she'd ever think Gaston was a suitable husband, she'd grown up with him and just didn't see him that way, beside other reasons. But compared to this man…well, Gaston wasn't the worst person she could be forced to marry.

Apparently she wasn't the only person thinking this, because after a moment Gaston chimed in speaking with his usual dull monotone. "The young lady is engaged…to me!" he said possessively.

Rumpelstiltskin gave another childish giggle. "I wasn't asking if she was engaged!" he said moving around them, still paying her no attention. "I'm not looking for…love" he said the word like he was disgusted by it. If he didn't want her in that way, then what did he want her for? He answered her question like he could read her mind. Could he? "I'm looking for a caretaker," he corrected "for my rather large estate." Her nerves eased at the words, and she found herself thinking about the offer. It didn't sound too bad. Certainly not terrible. Caretaking. That meant what? Cleaning? Cooking? She could do that. Well, she couldn't, but she could learn. And it wasn't like he was asking her to marry him. But the smile on his face, it made her uneasy, what was the reason behind that smile? "It's her or no deal," he said, coming to the bottom line.

"Get out," her father ordered in a less than forceful tone. Rumpelstiltskin smiled, still not looking her, and it was beginning to bother her. If he was going to include her in on a deal, taking over her future the least he could do was look at her, maybe even ask her. "Leave!" her father ordered loudly. Suddenly Gaston's arm hit her around the throat and pushed her back out of the way, like she didn't have the sense to move on her own if she was in the way.

"As you wish," he muttered before slowly walking toward the door. She watched him go, watched their only hope walking out of the room. From somewhere deep down she heard a voice in the back of her head ask if this was how she wanted to live the rest of her life. A princess that no one listened to, no one paid any mind to, and no one really cared about. To be married off to Gaston, produce an heir to the throne, and be forever known as the pretty face beside the King. And that was if they could win the Ogre War. What would happen if they didn't? What would become of her then? Of her father? Of their people? What would their life be like? Would they even survive? Would their kingdom?

"No! Wait!" She called suddenly feeling every eye turn to her once again, looks of shock written on their faces. Even the man, the creature, Rumpelstiltskin finally turned to look at her. She took a deep breath and removed Gaston's arm before walking away from them and standing before the reptile man. She looked him over once, and then swallowed hard trying to find her voice. Only a few words, she only needed a few words. She had to say them and it would be done. She had the courage somewhere, maybe if she did the brave thing she would find that she could be brave. Maybe she could be the hero, just like the men in her books. But she needed the words first. "I will go with him," she said firmly, leaving no room for argument. The room seemed to explode.

Rumpelstiltskin giggled.

"I forbid it!" Gaston insisted

"No!" her father muttered shocked.

Something in her snapped, irritated with the way she was treated and how they thought they should have more say over what she did and didn't do in her life than she did. "No one decides my fate but me!" she turned to shout at the two of them. "I shall go," she said turning back to the creature before her, her outburst silencing the two of them.

"It's forever dearie," he commented with childish glee.

And though it required more strength than she thought she had, maybe some good would come out of this. If she was going to be used as collateral, then she was going to give the say so. She thought of the village, the families, the children, all the people that would benefit if she did this. She wouldn't be a Princess anymore. She'd be less. Prisoner forever. Caretaker. She could learn. She could figure this out. She had to, for them, and in a strange way she couldn't understand, for herself as well. But she had to be sure first. "My family, my friends, they will all live," she stated her expectations clearly, leaving no room for loop holes, no room for him to fool or trick her, as she'd heard he often did. This was her deal now, it wasn't her father that could save everyone, it was her.

Rumpelstiltskin gave a small innocent bow "You have my word." Fortunately for him, she knew that he didn't break the deals he made, just exploited them. But she couldn't think of anything else to say to make sure everything was covered. So, if he said it, if he was giving her his word, then it was true. And if it was true. Then her fate was really sealed. She'd always wanted to be in charge of herself, to plan her own future. But she certainly never thought this was where it would lead her. She pushed the regret, the what ifs, the possibilities out of her mind, and managed to find the right words once again.

"Then you have mine." She didn't leave room to mourn "I will go, with you, forever."

"Deal!" Rumpelstiltskin giggled more gleefully than before and jumped up and down excitedly. She watched him curiously. This was it then, this was her new future. She remained stone faced, not allowing anyone to see any of the emotions passing through her right now.

"Belle," came her father's voice. "You cannot do this," she turned to him and rested her hand on his chest, trying to keep her face brave and not cry. She'd been separated by her grandmother by force of death before, and now she was voluntarily doing it to her father. It was hard to see now, but this was the right thing to do. He would remain, he would live, he would continue to rule. That was all that mattered. She had to be brave for him, after all, this was for him. "Please," he begged "you can't go with this," he glanced over her shoulder to the creature about to take her away from this life "beast" he spat at him.

"Father, Gaston," she looked at the pair of them, she'd known them both her entire life, and cared for them both, no matter how dull and stupid she thought Gaston had grown up to be, no matter how demanding and controlling her father could be. Separating from them wasn't easy, but it had to be done. "It's been decided," she said firmly, trying to tell him that things were not going to change. Their desperate pleas were useless.

"You know," the sinister voice muttered behind her, she could hear his footsteps coming ever closer to her, feel him lurking just over her shoulder. "She's right." She glanced at him, still wearing a face of undistinguishable emotion. "The deal is struck!" he said it in a way that made her stomach flop. But looking at her father she could tell that it had gotten the point across to him. It seemed to have killed his hope, she only wished that some day he would realize that she was doing this to give him hope. "Oh! Congratulations on your little war," he taunted needlessly, only making the difficult situation worse.

She wished she could explain, that she had time to make it better, to tell him good-bye, and how much she loved him. But before she knew what was happening she felt a hand at her waist, gently pulling her away from him, and one at her back, pushing her forward, leaving the end of her old life and the beginning of something new.


	2. Terrible Endings and Worse Beginnings

He escorted her out of the palace, out of the home that she had known her entire life. No one came after her, no one cried her name, or fought for her. They had simply stood by and allowed this to happen. She didn't know if she was happy or sad about that. On the one hand she didn't think that she would be able to force them to let her go, and she wasn't sure if she could bear to watch what might happen if they tried to stop him from taking her. But on the other hand she was somewhat flabbergasted that they didn't even try. Not Gaston, not her father, he hadn't even sent one of his soldiers to try! Sure they had argued, but in her mind actions always spoke much louder than words.

He kept his hand at her back the entire way: through the halls, around the corners, in the grand entrance, and finally out the door. And before she knew it home was at her back. Outside waiting for them was a carriage, pulled by two horses, but without a driver. He pulled the door open and his accent suddenly changed from the cheerful childlike one he'd had upstairs to a strange one that she heard peasants in a forest, whose name she couldn't remember, using. "After you!" he exclaimed giving her a graceful bow that she figured was more to mock her than be respectful. He offered his hand to her, but she didn't use it. Instead she climbed into the carriage on her own. She wasn't a princess any more, she was just a lowly servant, and it was better if she got used to that now rather than later. He loaded himself into the carriage and sat opposite her, then with a hand gesture she heard the horses whinny and the carriage rolled forward.

And so it was the end. She remained stone faced. She didn't shed a tear. Not when she had left the palace and not now as she watched home shrink into the distance. She refused to take her eyes off of it until she could no longer see it. The end of one life the beginning of another. She glanced at the thing sitting across from her and was surprised to find he was staring back at her. The tiny pupils in his eyes watching her almost curiously. She stared back, unwilling give him the slightest thought that she was afraid of him, because she wasn't. He was startling, and his reptilian gaze was disconcerting but frightening?! No, he didn't scare her. He couldn't. Nothing he could do would ever be worse than what he had already done, taking her from her family, her life, her home…surely death was far more merciful than this man. "Where are we going?" she asked bravely, when she realized that neither of them were going to give up their gaze or blink first.

He gave another nasally laugh, "Home!" he responded before bursting into his childlike laughter. No, it wasn't. Children laughed naturally and uncontrollably, his was the exact opposite. Forced and controlled, like he thought that he had to say something funny and he was going to laugh at it so that she would think it was funny. Or that she would be frightened by the vague idea of the unknown. It was as if he was trying to put on a persona, as if he was trying to make her think that he was someone else. He was hiding something. There was something more there beneath the laughter, the accents, beneath even the deals that he had made.

But she wouldn't dare tell him this, wouldn't share her suspicions with him. Who knew what she could expect from Rumpelstiltskin, it would probably be better for her to just start to collect these observations, to gather the knowledge up and store it for safe keeping. The problem was that he seemed to be doing the same thing. His eyes bored into her like he could read her mind and see through to her soul. It didn't scare her, it was just…uncomfortable. "And how far is that?" she asked, wondering how long this showdown would go on.

"Oh, never fear, dearie," his voice lost its accent and went so low it was like he was trying to sound as dark and terrifying as he possibly could. "We shall arrive in no time," and once again the high voice had reappeared. Only, thankfully, after he answered her question he turned his head to gaze out the window. Was he conscious of these strange mood swings? Or did they just happen maybe? It was like he had a million different people in his head and couldn't decide which one of them that he wanted to be. Did he know who he wanted to be or what he wanted to do? Had he known that he wanted to take her with him before he'd even set foot in their palace or was it a last minute decision? Had he just looked for the most precious thing her father had in that room and stumbled upon her? Or was there a reason he wanted to take her? What could that reason possibly be?

The hours seemed to pass by both slowly and quickly. In fact she couldn't help but wonder if it was magic that was causing that feeling. That thought made her uncomfortable. She knew that he was magical, she'd not only seen it but she'd also heard the rumors and tales of the deals that he had woven together all across the land. But somehow she suspected that it wasn't the same kind of magic that she read about in her books. This felt darker, more evil than that ever had. She didn't know how that worked, she didn't even know if it was possible. Although magic did exist this was the first contact outside of her fairy tales that she'd ever had with it. It was because of this that she knew that she had no proof to her suspicions, just a feeling that she was right.

And on and on the time went. It certainly didn't feel like "no time" as he'd said but there was still that strange sensation of time passing too quickly and too slow at the same time. They had gone through forests, villages, and now they were on a dirt road leading up into the mountains. She could feel the air around them chilling as the open carriage rattled up and up. The sun was beginning to sink over the mountains and she was wondering how much longer it was going to be. It hadn't been this cold yet when he had taken her away from her kingdom as winter had only just begun to arrive. But the mountains would be colder. He hadn't let her take anything with her. Nothing. Not a change of dress, not a personal item, and most desired at the moment, not even a cloak. She rubbed her hands together, trying to warm her fingers which were just now beginning to feel icy. She wouldn't ask to stop. She wouldn't ask if he kept a blanket. She didn't want anything from him. She didn't need anything from him.

Suddenly she looked up as he gave another hand gesture. She expected the horses to slow, but they didn't. Instead, what the gesture seemed to cue was the loud groaning sound that met her ears. She looked around. He was watching her again, but she didn't care, she was curious. As it turned out the groan came from two massive wooden doors that stood as the opening into a large piece of land surrounded by a large wall. She turned in her seat and looked ahead of her. The horses obscured her vision, but she could see it. The dark gray image of a shadowed castle was rising up to meet them, growing larger and larger as they got closer and closer.

So this was her new life, her new home. This was what she had traded her village's safety for. It didn't seem too bad. It was a big castle. For sure she wouldn't have to face him all that often. Something this big must have a hundred different rooms in it, and a thousand nooks and crannies in it. She could survive this. She would spend her time as far away from him with as little contact as possible. She would only see him as much as he required, and then she could retreat and create a little oasis for herself. Surly she could manage that.

She'd been expecting them to go around to the stables or where ever it was that he kept the horses. If she was lucky perhaps they would become her responsibility, her new friends. But instead he stopped the carriage at the great front doors and got out. Just as before he held out his hand to help her down and she felt herself automatically reaching out to take it, without giving it a second thought. Habit. But it was probably a good thing. She was so busy staring at the castle around her she might have tripped or fallen if it wasn't for the steady hand he'd offered.

As soon as she was out, he wasted no time. He left the horses where they were, perhaps they would be back for them later, and walked swiftly and confidently into the castle. The doors swung magically open for him and closed behind her with an unnerving clunk, sealing her fate and her escape. No turning back now.

He continued to walk and she continued to follow, doing her best to look around the entrance hall. It might have been grand once but it looked cold. The gray stone surrounding her was dark and gloomy, not even a small bit of the dying light outside managed to make its way into the room. A dusty table sat in the middle of it, a vase with dry dead flowers sat at its center. Any happiness or compliment they had once given the room had disappeared from their green veins long ago. She knew what she wanted to do in this room first. New flowers. At the very least they could keep away that musty smell that the dust carried with it. And maybe they would do more. Maybe they would provide a little bit of happiness in the days that followed. That was if he would allow her free reign of the castle. She hoped he would, otherwise it was going to be a very long eternity.

"Keep up with me dearie!" he chimed from ahead. She realized that while she'd continued to follow him, in her efforts to look around the room she was lagging behind and quickly picked up her pace and fell in step behind him once more. The tall white doors in front of them once again opened on their own to a room that was not much better, but at least it wasn't worse than the entrance hall. It seemed warmer, but that could have been due to the fire lit in the grate. It blazed to life like it had always burned and she wondered if that was controlled by magic too. It was large, the walls were painted red and there were strange objects all around her: suits of armor at the doors, a spinning wheel in the corner, no doubt where he spun the golden thread he made, a rotting hand, a glittery looking stick, and two strange dolls that made her stomach turn. She quickly averted her eyes, preferring not to look into their wooden ones.

She'd fallen behind again. There would be lots of time, forever really, for her to look around and explore her new surroundings, for now she had one task, one order, and that was to keep up with him. The long dusty table could wait for later. And so, she quickened her steps again, catching up to him quickly. But she still couldn't stop her ability to see and she spotted a lone candlestick and clock against the far wall on a table. "Where," and a single, solitary chair sitting by the fire place, "where are you taking me?" she asked, and a cabinet full of dish items at the far end.

"Let's call it," he said menacingly, but with a strange smile on his face as he turned to look at her "your room."

That caught her interest. She had a sudden flashback to the room that she had left vacated at her father's palace. Her warm blankets, her soft mattress, the cream inviting color of the walls, and the friendly books that she had left behind perched perfectly upon their shelves. She felt a great rush of homesickness wash over her at the thought. She'd never see that room again, never sleep in the bed, never read the books, but at least all her hope wasn't gone. She doubted she'd ever be as fond of her room here as she had been at her father's palace. But at least she had a room instead of just a couch or floor to sleep on. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad after all.

He led her out the door on the other side of the room and down halls and sets of stairs made up of tan stones. They too were dusty, and had the smell like water had somehow gotten in and never dried out completely. At the foot of the stairs she heard another door swing open and as she arrived down she peered inside.

Her heart dropped. This was a joke, a prank surly. But as he continued to watch her and not say anything to the contrary her fear was suddenly confirmed and her jaw dropped. The tears that she had managed to hold in until this moment suddenly threatened to spill over her eyes. "My room?!" she accused and asked, part of her still hoping that somehow this was a joke. He was smiling, but it wasn't a friendly sort of smile.

"Well it sounds a lot nicer than dungeon," he piqued.

Before she could shout "NO!" at him and refuse to enter the small space that held only a wooden bed frame she felt his hand on her and he gave her a shove into the space. It had all happened so fast she didn't have time to fight it. Once she had finally gained control of her body she was able to turn around just in time to see him physically close the door and hear the snick of a lock that followed. Through the thick door she could hear the shrill laughter that he gave and his footsteps dying away. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't have been what he had meant.

"You can't just leave me in here!" she screamed at the door. But no answer came. "Hello! Hello?" Nothing. From a room fit for a Queen to a dungeon fit for a prisoner. Now she was truly alone.


	3. Two of a Kind

She'd banged on the door until her hands went numb, until she realized that this wasn't some kind of joke, as the childish laughter after he'd shut her in had suggested. So this was her reality. Once she had come to that devastating conclusion she found herself shrinking onto the floor, her body resting against cold stone and hard wood, she pulled her knees to her chest and wept, for everything: her father, her home, her friends, her books, even a tear for Gaston. She hoped that it would be worth it, she hoped that her town was safe. Her life was over, but it would be worth it if one day many eons from now an old grandmother would sit in a rocking chair and tell her grandchildren how she and her family and friends were saved by the courageous acts of Princess Belle. She shuddered as she realized that the story would probably end with "and she was never seen again."

Suddenly the door supporting her back clicked and opened unexpectedly and she found herself gripping the stone wall to keep from toppling over, and falling right against him. The sight of him standing in the door way startled her, and she scrambled quickly to her feet wiping her tears away. While she had seen him as harmless in her father's palace and even on the way here, that had all been before he'd thrown her into this dungeon like a common criminal, and she felt a growing sense of anger toward him. She still didn't fear him, judging by how everyone else on the war council had acted around him she knew that she very well might have been the only one not afraid, but his very appearance was still so shocking to her that it made her silent. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

"Come! Come now, dearie, we don't have all day!" he cackled turning on his heel as she was still straightening her dress and walking away. She really wasn't in the dress or shoes to be running after anyone. She really wasn't in the dress or shoes to be a glorified maid either, but she managed. For now it was all she had, all that remained of her previous life. If he complained about it then he would find himself in the middle of a fight to the death to keep herself together.

He didn't say anything else. Instead he led them down a set of stairs and through a number of hallways, not once did he stop to say anything or explain. She tried her best to memorize the way, although so many of the halls looked alike it was difficult, but she thought she could find her way back to that dungeon, and from there to the door she had first come through. She was only a few passage ways away from the exit, and somehow that made her feel better about the situation. Not that she would run away, she wouldn't risk him going back on their deal, but she felt less trapped and out of place knowing the exit.

Finally he stopped outside of a wooden door, and she found herself panicking for a moment, wondering if this was another prank, another dungeon or worse that he was going to toss her in. The dungeon wasn't pleasant but surely it wasn't the worst place that "The Dark One" had on his property. As he opened the door she glanced around his shoulder to the inside. It was a kitchen, much like the one they had at her father's palace, only this one was not bustling with maids performing various activities. He moved away suddenly, and she jumped at the sudden motion. He seemed to do that a lot, she was going to have to get used to that was well, she supposed. "I shall take my tea upstairs!" he said in a funny voice that almost laughed in its own way. She didn't understand the joke. He disappeared the way that they had come and she was suddenly left alone in the kitchen.

She stepped into the area, her new work space, and examined it. It was dark, except for the fire in the hearth. A table and a cabinet of dishes and china were present, they were clean but dusty. There was an old chair by the hearth, and the smell of fresh food was everywhere. It wasn't much, but it was all she had to work with. Tea was a good place to start. It was simple and basic, and it gave her a chance to snoop around while she was waiting for the water to boil. She found a lovely tea set, white porcelain with a blue leaf pattern and trimming. It was beautiful, but it wasn't what she had expected for someone like the Dark One, she expected something colder, less delicate. It just didn't seem like it belonged here. "That makes two of us," she muttered examining one of the tea cups as the water finally came to a boil.

Everything ready she grabbed the tray and started upstairs, heading for the room that they had passed by on her way in. She was happy she'd paid attention on her way down, and it seemed to pay off. Soon enough she'd found her prison cell again and after a bit longer the same red room, where he sat at the end of the long table. Again, the sight startled her and she found herself stopping dead to stare at the beast before her looking into the fire. She hadn't meant to stare, and she knew it was rude, but somehow she really didn't care for formalities after he'd locked her in a dungeon. "Come now dearie I don't bite!" he called in his unique childish voice "often," he added with a smile. Another joke, that really wasn't all that funny, to be frank. But nevertheless it succeeded in startling her into work again and she carried the tea tray into the large room, head held high. It was incredibly inappropriate for a servant to do, but she wouldn't let herself forget that she was a princess, it was in her blood, and she wouldn't let him take it away from her.

"You will serve me my meals," he ordered "and you will clean the dark castle" he continued as she set the tray down. Then again it was hard to remember she was a princess when she was being ordered to do things that had never been her responsibility, things she'd never done before and had never imagined having to do. There was going to have to be a lot of learning involved in this process, she just hoped that he understood the situation well enough, and wasn't banking on her being an expert on it just yet.

"I, I understand," she muttered, trying, at least, to sound respectable.

"You will dust my collection and launder my clothing."

She glanced up at him as she poured the tea "yes," she nodded, dusting didn't sound terribly difficult and she had seen her own maids wash the linens in the grounds outside her window weekly, it didn't look that hard.

"You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel."

"Got it," she nodded again. All she had to do was put some straw in a basket, not a difficult task. She smiled, cleaning she could pick up quickly, dusting would be a breeze, and gathering straw wasn't exactly hard labor. The laundry and cooking would take some time, but she'd been served enough that she already knew how to serve. All in all, it wasn't that bad.

"Oh!" he piped, his voice becoming more childish again. "And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts." The air left her lungs and her belly turned, she didn't have much in her stomach but she felt like it was a good thing considering she was doubting very much that she could keep it in. There was no way that she could do a task like that! It was just too evil for the likes of her. She was trying to run but she couldn't get the message to her stunned legs to move when he smiled and whispered "that one was a quip," he corrected with a strange little snicker, "not serious, he added like he was proud of the way he had shocked her.

A joke, just another meaningless joke, hardly funny, but as the feeling of shock left her body and she started to breathe again she found herself smiling. Not because it was funny, because it most certainly wasn't, but because she couldn't believe she'd fallen for something like that. Her father used to tease her like that all the time, although never with such grotesque tasks, but if Rumpelstiltskin had been hunting and skinning children she was certain that would have reached her ears rather than his penchant for deals. It was a silly thing to have fallen for. It would appear that there would be more to learn than just laundry and cooking, she had to learn him too. She had to learn when he was joking and when he was serious. In a situation like hers it could be the difference between life or death.

"Right," she breathed, suddenly aware that the cup she was holding was no longer in her hands, and that she could feel wetness from her dress. In her shock she had dropped the tea cup and spilt its contents on herself. She glanced down and spied it lying under the table, trying not to realize that her beautiful dress was now stained with the brown substance. She stooped down the pick up the cup and her heart caught in her throat, she'd broken it. "Oh, my," the beautiful tea cup had a chip in it. It wasn't that big of a chip but she'd seen servants get struck for less. She swallowed as she examined it, better to tell the truth and apologize, than to let him find out for his own one day. "I'm so sorry, but, ah, it's, it's chipped." He was already leaning over his chair to see what had happened. She held it up for him to see, trying her best to manipulate the angle so that it didn't look as bad as it was. She risked a glance up at him, still sporting a smile and staring at her in a strange way. She couldn't tell if he was angry or upset with her. "You, you, you can hardly see it," she commented when he didn't respond to her, certain that if just being here was enough to get her locked in a dungeon then a piece of damaged property was enough to get her whipped for sure. She'd never had to worry about such things in the past, and now that she did she found herself wondering how she was going to live with the constant pressure of that hanging over her head.

"Well it's just a cup," he said suddenly, his voice lower than it had been before. She waited for a moment, expecting him to burst into maniacal laughter or tell her that he had been joking, but he didn't. When she looked back up at him she was surprised to see that he didn't look angry at all. He looked astonished, amused even. Like he couldn't understand why she was making such a big deal over a simple tea cup. She smiled with relief. It was ok.

She quickly poured another cup and stood in the corner while he drank waiting for him to announce that he was finished. But he never did. Instead, he simply rose and wordlessly left the room, leaving her to clean up. She took the tea, cups and all, back down to the kitchen, once again thinking that she was going to have to find a quicker way down at some point. Once she set the tray on the table she released a breath she hadn't known she was holding in. Her world was caving in on her, but she had to keep reminding herself that it would be ok. New didn't always mean bad. All she needed was a good night's rest to put her mind at ease and then she'd take it one day at a time.

She glanced over at the tea cup sitting on the tray. As she examined the newly chipped cup, she couldn't help but smile as she shook her head. They were two of a kind: two beautiful things that didn't belong in a place like this. She ran her finger over the fragile edges of the chip. It would be easy to place the cup up on a shelf, retire it, but somehow that thought saddened her more than anything. It wasn't broken, it was just chipped, it wasn't in a place that that would affect its use. She set the cup back down on the tray, putting it back to work, back where it belonged. Maybe like the cup she would come through this and realize that she wasn't nearly as broken as she seemed, maybe she too was just chipped. And judging by the reaction he'd had after she dropped, she found herself thinking there might be hope here after all. Maybe he wouldn't mind her learning curve as much as she feared he would.


	4. The Nature of the Beast

She had gone to bed upset again. The start of the week hadn't seemed so bad, not even when she had chipped that silly tea cup. But as the week wore on her patience had been tried. It hadn't been bad when he'd locked her in this time but as the darkness had claimed the cell and her mind had traveled back to her comfortable bed now left vacant, she couldn't focus on anything pleasant. All the negative thoughts, the sadistic actions, and demeaning situations weigh heavy as a thick blanket against her body. She was cold, her dress smelled, she wanted to run a brush through her hair, the pitiful excuse for a bed and blankets were uncomfortable, and she couldn't find a way to sleep that didn't put pressure on her body in uncomfortable ways. The light starting to brighten the small cell didn't give her any hope or reassurence, it only told her that she'd had yet another sleepless night and that was the last straw. Her nerves were on fire, she was tired, she was exhausted, and more than anything she wanted to go home.

She had done this to be brave, but yet again she found herself breaking down into gut wrenching sobs that echoed against the walls and in her ears. For the millionth time she asked herself if brave men dying on the battlefields cried. Did Princes preparing to storm a castle for their true loves cry? Did Princesses that sacrificed everything they had ever known cry when the tides turned on them? Well, she knew the answer to the last one. She couldn't control it, and she wouldn't have even if she could. What did he care if she slept? What did he care if she was uncomfortable and wanted to go home? The short answer: he didn't. As long as he got his tea, the castle cleaned, his laundry done, then he had no care for her in the end. She clenched the pathetic blanket between her fingers, crying into it, pretending that it was one of the rich blankets she had been used to in her father's palace. But no comfort came. She didn't have the energy to pretend anymore. She didn't have the energy for anything anymore. And she really didn't know how much longer she could go on like this.

She was going to die here. She just knew it. One day he was going to come release her for her morning chores and she would just be dead, from sleepless nights, exhaustion, and sadness. Death was the only hope for escape from this wretched prison. It would be worth it, though. Her village was safe, and she firmly believed that sometimes to save many that meant the sacrifice of one. But while she waited for the day of her death to arrive she didn't have to act happy about her situation. So she wouldn't stop the tears, even if she wanted to.

From behind her she heard a heavy squeak, and turned around to find him coming through the door. It was odd. Usually he flipped open the lock letting the door creak open, her warning that it was time for her day to begin. But this was different, he never actually came into her prison before. "When you so eagerly agreed to come and work for me," she rolled off of her small bed. She wouldn't face him like this, with tears in her eyes and desperation on her face. No, the beast was her captor, and she would never face him with anything less than a straight back and a face of personal pride. She was a Princess, and she hadn't been enslaved, she'd willingly volunteered. She could face anything he would throw at her, no matter what the cost to her, so long as he didn't undo the deal that her being there satisfied. "I assumed you wouldn't miss your family quite so much," he commented in an annoyed tone.

It didn't make her feel guilty, it made her angry. Of course he would figure that. When she first arrived she had tried to make the best of her terrible situation. She believed he might not actually be as bad as she thought. She had based everything off that one feeling she'd had when he'd showed up at the castle. But as lack of sleep slowly started to cloud her judgment, or maybe clear it, she knew that she had been wrong. He was a monster. What would he know about family and the love a parent could have for his child, or the love that a daughter could have for her father. Monsters were incapable of love or affection or any kind of good there was in the world. He assumed everything, but knew nothing. Her father was right-ogres were not men.

"I made my sacrifice for them, of course I miss them, you beast!" she shouted at the horrific creature. She couldn't hold in her anger or control her tongue. The agreement was that she would be here and look after his home, it never specified that she had to be respectful. If she was going to die here then she would make sure he knew exactly what she thought of him. She would hope that he lost just as much sleep over it as she did.

"Yes, yes, of course" he mumbled, her words having no effect on him what so ever. "But the crying must stop," he insisted. She couldn't help but glare at him and his lack of emotion, "Night after night!" he accused throwing his arms in the air in a ridiculous flamboyant gesture. "It's making it very difficult for me to spin!" he informed her. She could feel the look of confusion and disgust on her face. Oh, was _he_ uncomfortable? Was he also being held captive in a small dark cell?! "I do my best thinking then!" She glanced away from him, furrowing her brow with a rage she could barely keep in control. She couldn't feel sorry if he felt like she had interrupted his life, made it difficult. In case the selfish dealmaker hadn't noticed, she wasn't exactly walking through a field of flowers and sunshine trapped down here every night either. And he should try doing his best thinking when sleep eluded him for three nights as it had her!

They remained there for a few moments, standing in the shared space of silence before a poof of purple by his hand caught her attention. Sitting upon it suddenly was a luxurious white pillow, tassels hanging down from the corners. "Perhaps this'll help?" he asked offering it to her.

"For me?" she questioned, confused by the sudden seemingly kind act. She knew that she shouldn't take it. Nothing good would ever come from anything this creature did or said. But she was tired, and her body felt like it could give out from under her at any moment if she didn't get any sleep soon. It was like offering a piece of poisoned bread to a starving man. But then he didn't exactly give her a choice as he threw the object at her, catching it only before it could slam into her weakened form.

"Not quite so beastly now am I?" He scowled at her as he walked back toward the door.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Actually, that would have been if he'd given her a decent room. Even the lowliest of servants got actual rooms and not prison cells in her father's palace. But still, at least it would be better than sleeping on her arm and waking up to the numbness every hour or so. "Thank you!" she called after him, not allowing herself to feel any kind of gratitude. "Perhaps now I can actually get some sleep" she said with spite dripping from every syllable. She didn't care if he felt bad about the way that he'd been treating her. He should.

"No, no, no" he waved at her, grabbing her attention away from the pillow she was setting on her bed. "It's not to help you sleep," he corrected "it's to muffle the crying so that I can get back to work!" he yelled. For a moment she thought she might actually lose it. She could feel the tears coming on as she was about to scream at him that no one should ever treat another human being like this. She hoped that she had never treated any of her servants so harshly and inhumanely. It would haunt her for her entire life. She sneered at the person before her. Would it upset him if she only ever thought of him in such an evil way? She didn't care. She would shout it from the mountain tops with her last dying breath. He was evil, a demon, and she would never see him as anything more than the beast that he was.

But she would never get to tell him the words that were on her mind. Before she could, something caught his attention and drew it away from her. It was then that she heard what had startled him. It was a noise. Someone was in the castle and from the way he walked out of her "room" quickly it wasn't exactly a planned guest.


	5. Don't You Just Love Magic

Days of long work, nights of no sleep, had completely devoured her hope at ever having a normal life here. People had always told her to never make deals with the devil, now she was sure that it wasn't a deal with the devil they should be worried about, it was the deal with Rumpelstiltskin. At the unfamiliar sound Rumpelstiltskin ran out of her cell and upstairs. She followed, quick on his heels trying not to trip over her long skirts. She was curious. Who would try and break in here? She refused to be frightened of the man before her but that didn't mean that she would ever voluntarily come here or break in. Sure, he had treasures, but she was certain that the risk of being caught would never be worth whatever he had to offer.

She half expected to see an army. Surely no one would be brave enough to break into his castle alone, not without a lot of backup and re-enforcements. But she was wrong. As they worked their way into the main room on the first floor she could see a man, he was picking up the magic wand. She couldn't say she was terribly surprised. Of all the things he needed to try to steal it had to be the magic wand. Nearly everything in his collection was one of a kind, but this, this was different. It was rare, yes, but not one of a kind. But for anyone trying to steal something it would be the obvious choice. The other objects might have some kind of power or magic but the only one that knew how to work them would be Rumpelstiltskin. A magic wand, on the other hand, they were both magic and powerful. And everyone knew it. Finding someone to work it, or learning how to work it himself, wouldn't be very difficult.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Dearie!" Rumpelstiltskin warned with barely a hint of his strange childlike voice. The man looked up and pushed back his hood. He didn't appear startled, although it did appear that he had been too focused on the object to notice them coming in. He stared at Rumpelstiltskin with strange hawk like eyes. On his back, he carried a quiver of arrows and a bow. It was a fitting weapon for the piercing gaze the stranger had.

In the face of the Beast, the man didn't flinch. Instead he smiled without fear and completely removed his hood. Here was a truly brave man. He was handsome too. She was certain that even Gaston would have noticed. But what would he want with a magic wand? "Pretty sure," the man replied confidently, the smallest bit of humor in his voice. He acted like he watched wits with evil creatures all the time.

"If you don't know how to use that wand, it can do nasty things to you," Rumpelstiltskin warned again. It was like he was trying to give the man a chance. To put the wand down and run, but she very much doubted that he would get away even if he let the wand go. The brave man's fate had been sealed the moment he walked in the door.

"Well then, I'll stick to what I know works" the stranger slid the wand into the quiver behind him and exchanged it for an arrow. "Do you know what this arrow would do to you?" the man threatened. She didn't know it was possible, but the sight made her heart drop even more than it already was. What the man thought was a viable threat was actually the man's own death sentence. Faced with Rumpelstiltskin an arrow was nothing. She didn't know why he wanted the wand, but she wondered if the attempt had been worth it?

"Has to hit me first," her jaw dropped as Rumpelstiltskin seemed to suddenly vanish before her eyes. He was running. She could feel the speed of it stir the air around her, and the man turning this way and that trying to pin point his target. Finally he appeared in the room again, over by the far wall. He stood stock still, waiting for the inevitable, "shouldn't be a problem," he stated, taking closer aim. "An arrow fired by this bow always finds its target," he explained with a deep contented sigh, "don't you just love magic," he taunted before taking aim again. He might not have seen it, but she did. The small coy smirk that Rumpelstiltskin was sporting. Magic against magic. There was certainly no good thing that could come out of something like that. She had a really bad feeling when he pulled back the string and released, and she couldn't help it, she jumped.

Her eyes stayed on Rumpelstiltskin, or they tried to until he disappeared again and suddenly reappeared behind the handsome young man. He was safe, or was he? The movement of the arrow caught her eye and she watched, horrified and amazed, as it magically slowed down, and unnaturally did a loop in the air, automatically adjusting its course. Then it picked up its natural speed and plunged itself into his chest. The sound of torn clothing and pierced flesh made her stomach turn. He gave a small gasp of surprise and she instinctually started to run to him, thinking maybe that she could help in some way, although she knew little about wounds and medicine.

The man moved swiftly around him muttering "I know I do," as he marched off, a free man.

She couldn't believe this. Was he going to die? Would he really get away with this as simple as that? What would happen to her? A million questions passed through her head in less than the second it took her to make her way to him. But just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.

"As…do…I!" the scream drew her attention to across the room, where she saw Rumpelstiltskin cut the man off and pull the arrow from his chest and make it disappear with a flamboyant gesture. "But don't you know," he yelled "all magic comes with a price! In your case, that's me," he said menacingly to the man.

She knew that it couldn't be that simple. For a beast such as he to be taken down so quickly by an arrow was laughable really. And the man! He just stood there! It was as if he was still surprised that it hadn't worked in the end. She wasn't afraid of him. But she was scared for the man. She knew he wouldn't, but she found herself wishing against hope that he would let him go. There had been no harm done! He had never been in danger! He could take the wand back! All could be forgotten! He could let the man go!

She waited, and thick roped suddenly burst into existence in a haze of black smoke and coiled themselves tightly around his legs and arms, even around his throat, cutting off any noises that the man could make. She watched horrified as Rumpelstiltskin removed the man's quiver and pried the special bow out of his fingers. As the man writhed there on the floor, helpless, he took the wand out and placed it back on its perch, heaving a sigh of what looked like relief that his precious collection was once again complete. It made her sick.

He turned his back on her, but not before she caught the evil glint in his eye. He walked over to the struggling, handsome, young man and bent down before him. "Don't you just love magic?" he taunted with an evil sneer marking his face. He pulled the ropes at the back of the man's neck and with unnatural strength dragged him off toward the dungeons. But not before shoving the bow and quiver into her arms, numbed with shock. "Do something with these," he muttered before disappearing through the doorway, heart wrenching thuds followed as the man's dead weight fell against the hard stone stairs.

She collapsed on the spot, the bow and arrows falling from her grasp and spilling out onto the floor. She gasped, clawing at her chest, panic working its way through her system. She felt like she'd experienced too much in the last hour. Too many emotions. Emotions that she had never felt before, had never wanted to feel, and frankly never wanted to feel again in her life. Tears streamed down her face as the first loud yell of pain reached her ears. The beast truly was a monster.

She hoped that her village was enjoying the spoils of a peaceful existence. Because she was certainly paying for the magic that it had required. She inhaled a gulp of tears but it wasn't enough to keep the broken cry from her mouth. No, she certainly did not love magic. She never wanted anything to do with it again.


	6. A Fighting Chance

She told herself that she shouldn't think of the man, shouldn't pay it any attention. It was his problem not hers. But it wasn't as easy as that. She couldn't stand the sounds of the screams that came from the dungeon. Cleaning the blood off the leather aprons multiple times a day made her stomach churn. And she couldn't live with his pain filled groaning night after night even when he was in rest. It only made her think of her small cell as comfortable and kind. And she wouldn't think that. She couldn't think that. He wasn't kind to give her a cell, it was terrible.

And it only made thinking about what he was doing to the theif even worse. From somewhere deep down she wondered if it was all part of another plan-to scare her, to give her a taste of her own future. Because every time she heard him now, she couldn't help but wonder if her imprisonment would eventually include torture as well.

But for now he was occupied, for now she was safe. And that thought alone induced more guilt in her than anything else she'd ever done. A man was suffering, and all she could do was be glad that it wasn't her. To make matters worse, she realized that she had possibly for the first time since she arrived here slept soundly through the night, her head placed upon the pillow he had given her. The only good thing that came from that the next morning was that she felt rested, she felt clear headed, and she felt stronger, more capable of fighting, rather than rolling over and just letting him walk all over her, or the man downstairs even. She had come to the conclusion, that on the day that he decided he would torture her this way she wouldn't go down without a fight. She'd run, she'd kick, she'd scream, she would do anything to get away, knowing full well that at the end of the day it was useless.

Another scream echoed up from the dungeons.

She kept sweeping, trying not to focus too much on it. Her entire life she had believed that no one was truly evil. Everyone she firmly believed had a little bit of good and a little bit of bad in them. But as another scream rose to her ears she found herself doubting that assumption. She wished it would end. Whatever he was trying to find out, obviously the man wasn't going to tell him or he didn't know. He should have let him go ages ago, not prolong his release.

Suddenly he appeared in the door and she felt her grip tighten on the broom in anger as she tried to look busy, like what was going on didn't affect her. She hadn't prompted the man to steal, she hadn't ordered him to be tortured. She should worry about her own health and the best way to keep herself safe was to do her job. "I'm going to need another apron," he said sounding tired. Good, maybe he would give the man a break. He tossed gloves upon the table she had just cleaned and cleared her throat pretending that she wasn't thinking about terrible and inconsiderate he was. "They're, uh," she winced to see the wet red blood smears on the leather apron he was wearing now "they're on the line," she informed him. What exactly was he doing to him down there? "Drying," she added. "It'll be some time," maybe time enough for the man to recover, or for his rage to cool. Maybe enough time for him to realize how useless and cruel this was. Enough time for him to come to his senses, assuming he had any.

"Fine, fine," he said quickly removing the blood stained apron. "Get to cleaning this one as well," he said tossing it on the table next to the gloves. "I'll be back later," she grit her teeth together as he strode away looking to leave the room. Something in her broke. She could handle a lot. She could take orders, deal with his inconsiderateness, but when they were coupled by the screams of a good person locked away in a dungeon being tortured every time she managed to clean an apron her temper flared.

"All this," she called after him in a stern voice. She wouldn't appear weak. Not to him. If he was going to torture her as well, then so be it. But someone had to stand up for this man. "Because he tried to steal a magic wand?" she asked, hoping against hope that he would see the error of his ways.

"No," he responded predictably, "because he tried to steal from me!" He yelled, turning on his heel and finally looking her in the eye "The Dark One. You try that you get skinned alive. Everyone knows that," he stated. She should feel disgusted, her stomach should be turning. But knowing that was what was happening in that dungeon she felt more than her temper flare. The little bit of courage she had sparked too.

"Actually," she told him clearly and confidently, the smallest hint of defiance in her voice, "no, they don't."

He stared at her for a while. There was a look of shock on his face, like no one had ever dared to speak back to him in that way before. It looked like the surprise from that small fact had thrown him for a loop, he hadn't been expecting that at all. Maybe it was the first time someone had yelled back at him. Nevertheless he seemed to recover quickly enough, saying simply "Well they will after they discover the body," and with a final giggle he left the room.

This time her stomach did curdle. She'd been blind, she'd been stupid, she'd let her assumptions get in the way of her seeing reality. She wasn't afraid of him, and although the thought that he might hurt her was now in her head, she hadn't always thought that way, and she'd never thought that he would murder her. Because of that she'd been simply assuming that he would treat the man the same way. That he would torture him until he had his fill and then release him however maimed and scared he may be. But she was wrong. He wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to set him free. He was going to kill him. That was the only way that this would end in his mind.

The desire for justice, proper justice, stirred within her. She was done with this, with sitting idly aside and waiting for it to happen. She couldn't bear it. She wouldn't. She already felt too guilty about how long she'd allowed it to go on in the first place. There was no way that he was going to let the man pay for this attempted slight with his life. And if he was going to torture her, if he was going to kill her, then at least one of them might make it out alive.

She ran down to the kitchen, happy that she appeared to at least have her common sense. After everything that he'd been through, she knew, he wouldn't make it very far if he was weak. Rumpelstiltskin provided all of the food she cooked last minutes, but she could at least give the man a little bit of water to strengthen him. She just hoped he had the sense not to stay anywhere near here after this. He would have to get as far away as possible.

She opened the door and glanced in, her jaw dropping at the sight. He was suspended by chains bound to his wrists in the middle of the room, he looked exhausted and broken, and blood pouring from his mouth into his beard. His skin looked intact but she wasn't positive if that had been a joke or not. The man managed to swing his body over expertly so that he could look at her. He laughed weakly while she followed the chains and the rope attached to them over to the wall. She could do this. It would be easy enough. She could free him. "Did he send you to finish the job?" he asked with a laugh in his voice. It was different than Rumpelstiltskins laughs. This one wasn't hiding anything. It was meant to show her that he was desperate, that he had nothing else to look forward to than death. He, like her, wouldn't meet his death to an enemy as a weak person. He would meet it on his own terms.

"Ah, no!" she cried, realizing that she'd been staring. "No!" She moved toward him, hoping that he knew that she wasn't associated with him that way, that she hated what he was doing to him. She hoped he realized that she was a kind person. "Here," she held the cup up to his bloody lips "drink this." He lunged forward as much as he could graciously taking the gift she was offering him. Once he pulled back she looked over her shoulder at the device on the wall holding him up. She hoped it was as simple as it looked. "I couldn't let this continue," she explained, setting the cup down and giving the wheel her full attention. "It's inhuman," she commented more to herself than to him but he gave a grateful laugh at her.

"I couldn't agree more," he said with a smile as she began untangling his bonds. "But I fear now he'll turn his rage upon you," he pointed out.

"If he does I'll stand up to the beast that he is," she said confidently, knowing that the words were true. She wouldn't go without a fight. And she wasn't going to let him die without a fighting chance as well. "Because no one," the bonds slipped from her grasp finally lose enough to let him free. He fell to the floor, too weak to catch himself, and she rushed to his aid "no one deserves to be tortured!" She exclaimed. Not him. Not her. Not when they hadn't committed any evil crime.

"Well, he may beg to differ," he commented as she worked on freeing his wrists from the shackles.

"Well, I don't care," she muttered finding that too was true. She hated the things that he did, what he had done to this man, and the magic that he used. She'd let her tired mind and the sounds of torture cloud her instincts, but underneath it all she found that the original thought was still there. He wouldn't hurt her. "He doesn't frighten me," she explained, making sure that she had managed to free him completely. She only hoped he was strong enough to go on from here without her. "Hurry up," she ordered "he'll be back soon." Or later. She had no idea when he would return but she knew that he needed time to be on his way, time to put distance between them. She'd clean up the mess here but this would all be for naught if he reentered the castle only to find her escorting him out. "Hurry," she insisted harshly, helping him to his feet. He ran for the door, stumbling and limping, but sturdy enough to get to safety.

He stopped and supported his weight against the door, then unexpectedly turned back to face her. "But he will," he warned feverishly "he will kill you," he said clearly even through his labored breathing. "Unless," he took a deep gulping breath and she looked around him nervously. Why wasn't he going? Why was he wasting time? Who knew when Rumpelstiltskin would get back? He needed to go now! "Unless you run away with me," her heart fell. He was a good man. She had known it all along. He was simply looking out for her. Looking out for the woman who had freed him. Did that make her his hero? Is that how he would remember her?

The offer was tempting. The two of them could leave, but he was already injured and she was a princess in attire not suitable to run through the woods. One of them out there on their own stood a fighting chance; two of them, one slowing down the other, were bound to be caught sooner rather than later. And besides, if she left, what would become of her village then. The greatest revenge he could take back on her would be to undo the deal they had made. Their safety for her compliance. She didn't want to think about what he might be willing to do if she left. "I can't run," she answered shaking her head at the man "I made a deal to serve him in exchange for him protecting my kingdom and my family from the ogres," she explained "if I were to leave I may survive but my family surely won't."

His eyes widened like he was overwhelmed with the information, but understood it. There was no way out for her, no option, no hope. In his mind, her fate was sealed and he was leaving her behind to die. "Well then, all I can do is wish you luck," he muttered, and she could see that he was truly sorry that he could do nothing to help her out of this situation. It was unfortunate, but that was the way it was.

"Thank you," she said, feeling like she didn't need the luck. After all she had seen, all she'd heard, all he'd done, she still had a feeling deep down in her gut that he wouldn't hurt her. She just needed to remember that, to be confident in that feeling. But she knew that he wouldn't hesitate to harm this man. He had to leave, and he had to go now before it was too late. "Now go," she pushed him onward "go!" He raced from the room and she peered around the corner watching him go. She had done all she could, the rest was up to him now. It wasn't much but at least she had given him a fighting chance at making it out alive.


	7. Having No Fear

He liked to scream and shout. He liked to perform terrible acts just to scare her, but she wouldn't let it get to her. Not like it had that first night. She found that she wasn't afraid of him. She had no proof, no reason, only a feeling that told her that he wouldn't hurt her. She felt like he was using the emotion of fear to protect himself in some way, he used fear to intimidate her, but she wouldn't be fooled, she would push it as far as it would go, testing the boundaries.

After losing so much she had vowed that she wouldn't lose any more of herself than she had to. Days ago, when the strange man had showed up she had consigned herself to an inevitable death. But after freeing the man, she had a new lease on life. She couldn't stop his abysmal behavior toward others but she could help them wherever she could. She didn't know if this was a normal thing, holding prisoners in his castle, but if it was she could be the respite that they needed, the one to bring water and food, and on occasion set them free when they were being held captive without proper 'd done a good thing, but she had a feeling that he wouldn't see it that way.

No, she didn't fear him. But sometimes she wondered if it was really a good thing after all.

When he returned from wherever his errand had taken him he was sporting one of the leather aprons she had fetched from off the line. He started to pick through the tools she had cleaned after she'd freed the man, but didn't seem to pay her much mind. That was fine with her, she'd found a book yesterday sitting out of place on the mantle, now that she had a free moment she took to reading. But the distraction was useless, and she found she wasn't really reading the words. It wouldn't be long until he discovered what had happened and she would learn if her gut instinct was right and just how far he was willing to let her go. Or if she would end up in the thief's place. She would either be dead and that was that. Or she'd be alive…and that was that.

"Well I shouldn't be too long," he said menacingly, acknowledging her presence in the room. The tone once again suggested that he was trying to scare her, but she mustered every ounce of bravery she had inside of her. She couldn't lose it now, there was always the chance she'd need every bit of it soon. "Can't promise the same courtesy from our prisoner," and with that he left the room.

She didn't fear him, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding with anticipation. She guessed she had only a few more minutes until she got her answer. If these were her last moments on this earth then she wouldn't regret it, she'd freed the man, he was safe because of her, her village was safe because of her, if she died she knew that the world would be a better place for some of the souls she left behind because of her. She gazed down at the book in her hands, but still couldn't focus on the words. She was waiting, just waiting. It would happen any minute now…or rather any second.

A loud angry voice suddenly filled the room around her "Belle!" he stormed back into the room. She held her head high and watched him, having to shut down her natural instincts to shrink away from the beast and protect herself. That would be what he expected, it was what he was trying to make her do, but she wasn't going to make it that easy for him. She had no regrets, no matter what happened to her. "Where is he?!" he demanded.

She took a hesitant swallow and deep breath before answering quickly with false confidence, "Gone, I let him go." He stared at her, looking confused and bewildered before his face gave way to contorted rage and anger.

"What?!" he questioned like it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. "He was a thief," he pointed out truthfully, but she wouldn't back down to logic like that.

"Which doesn't give you the right to kill him," she countered her own frustration at the entire situation leaking out of her words. Even if he had successfully stolen something it was certainly not a crime punishable by death and torture!

"It gives me every right," he screamed, making ridiculously large gestures. She could see that he was angry, but it still didn't scare her. She was still here wasn't she, she was still alive, she hadn't been killed on sight. And strangely enough it wasn't fear that she felt; it was irritation. Had he not been in the room she would have rolled her eyes at him. She'd seen her four year old cousin have a fit like this once. Although everyone else had winced and coddled the child she'd shaken her head at the ridiculous tantrum. There were worse things in the world than not getting your way. She had learned that personally. "Oh let me guess!" he continued to ramble "you think he's a hero! Stealing from me for some noble cause! You read too many books dearie! There," with a wave of his hand the book in her lap disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Maybe that will stop poisoning your head with poisonous thoughts."

She didn't know what to do. She was stunned for a moment. Part of her wanted to cry. It hadn't been long since she'd found the book but it had brought her a small amount of joy while she'd had it. She'd already been just as attached to it as she had any of her other books. Now it was gone. It was the one comfort she had here, her one hobby, and it had paid the price for her choice.

But on the other hand, another part of her wanted to laugh hysterically. That was it! That was the greatest punishment that the mighty Dark One was going to subject her to? Take her book away like she was a child and she'd learn her lesson? It was foolish really. Comical. And it told her everything that she needed to know. Her instincts had been right. He wasn't one she had to fear. Others might be afraid of him, others might bend to his will because of it, but if all she had to worry about was a simple slap on the wrist, that was nothing! It made very little sense to her, but if it was working in her favor she wasn't going to question it. She would use it to her own advantage, see if she couldn't soothe the beast so she could have some nice quiet time to go off and mourn the loss of the beloved book on her own. And if he happened to see reason and give her the book back, then that was just fine with her.

"I didn't free him because of what I read in my books," she corrected stubbornly "I saw good in him," he looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language, then again when speaking about kindness, she doubted he really did understand the meaning of the word. "That man only wanted to escape with his life."

"Oh, was that what you thought?" he taunted "Well he escaped with more than his life," he pointed out to her the pedestal upon which she knew the wand sat. Her stomach plunged. It was gone. He had stolen the wand after all. This was bad. She felt her face wrinkle in shock and even hurt. In showing him kindness he had left her to deal with the consequences, whatever they might be. "You were tricked! Foolish, gullible girl!" he yelled at her.

Had she been tricked? The man was good, she could tell, he had wanted to save her too, to take her with him. He knew that she was risking her life to help him. So why would he make it more difficult for her? Why had he wanted the wand in the first place? There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Some reason that made the cost of stealing that wand worth the pain and destruction he knew he'd leave behind. At least, she hoped there was a reason, she hoped that she wasn't the only one to see that. "There, there must be an explanation," she stated, tripping over her words. "We, we don't know why he needed that wand," it was a feeble excuse but it was all she could offer at the moment while she was still processing what had happened.

"He took the wand because he wanted magic!" he yelled, this time she clenched her jaw together in annoyance. He didn't frighten her and she wished he would stop trying to. She was tired of the yelling and screaming. It only made him sound more ridiculous, and arrogant, and self centered. "People who steal magic never have good intentions."

"No!" she found herself yelling back, slightly shocked by her own boldness "no, you can't tell what's in a person's heart until you truly know them." She didn't believe the man was bad, or that he was going to use that magic for the evil that Rumpelstiltskin must have intended it for.

"Oh we'll see what's in his heart alright. When I shoot an arrow straight through it! And because I am a showman," in less than the blink of an eye purple smoke, similar to what had taken the book, filled and cleared his hand to reveal that black bow the thief had come in with. "It'll be with his bow! And because this is your fault you get to come with me and watch and know as the blood drips from his carcass, it'll be you and your rags to wipe it up!" he screamed before leaving the room.

Suddenly she felt terrified. Not because of him, she kept reminding herself that she was still alive and that spoke in droves as to what she could get away with, but she was scared for the man. She was scared for what would happen to him now. Why couldn't he have just left that wand alone?! There had to be a reason for why he had taken it?! She only hoped that the reason was worth his life! It wouldn't have been worth it for her, but she also didn't know the situation that required it. From across the room Rumpelstiltskin looked back at her. "Come come now dearie we don't have all day!" he beckoned, his voice suddenly cooler and collected. His personality shifts happened so quickly sometimes they caught her so off guard she felt dizzy.

Stifling her frightened tears she moved slowly over to him, following him out the door, only slightly aware as the fire magically put itself out as she passed by it. Freeing the man had been the right thing to do. She only wished she had thought to hide that blasted wand before she had done it. He might be willing to excuse her, give her a free ride for her actions, but this man was going to die, unless she figured out a way to stop him. But looking at the beast marching ahead of her, she hadn't a clue how to do that.


	8. The Voices of a Thousand Years

He led them quickly out of the castle and out the front doors. The chill of the harsh mountain weather made her skin pucker with goose bumps. Before her, suddenly, was a carriage pulled by horses, like the one that had originally brought her here. She knew for a fact that he didn't have any life stock anywhere on the grounds, she'd looked for them when she first arrived. But their sudden reappearance didn't surprise her, she was certain that his breed of magic could conjure just about anything. He opened the door and indicated with his hand that she should get in. Looking behind her at the warm castle she was leaving behind regretfully, she made an effort to cover her bare arms with her hands. It wasn't the first time that she'd wished she'd been able to grab a few of her belongings before he'd taken her away from her regal.

"Come dearie, you've given the thief enough of a head start already!" he ordered with his high squeaky voice, the comment was clearly made to make her feel some kind of guilt or shame. She wanted to yell at him, to shout, and insult him with every breath she had, but a night of good sleep and the sheer fact that she was still alive after the moment he found out she'd freed the prisoner was enough to make her think that just yelling and screaming at him wasn't going to free the man from this hunt. He was determined to find the man and if she was too irritating to him then he would leave her behind and go on without her. She had to be on that carriage, she had to show him that it was not worth it to go after the thief.

So with an irritated sigh, she squared her shoulders, still shivering from the world around her "you do know this is madness don't you," she spat through gritted teeth as she boarded the carriage. He offered a hand to help her, just like he had when he'd taken her away from her father's palace. This time she hadn't let old habits get in the way and ignored it.

"You'd be surprised how often madness is mistaken for justice," he commented taking the seat opposite her and closing the door. With a hand gesture the carriage jerked into motion and they were off. "Make yourself comfortable dearie, we've got a long journey ahead of us," he said closing his eyes and leaning his head back, like the idea of going after a man to kill him was all needed to have sweet dreams for the rest of their travels. She shook her head at his nonsense. She had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing back at his ease with some kind of retort.

The weather was a fair distraction. It wasn't winter yet, but it was chilly enough. There was a cross breeze coming into the open carriage and it let the cold air wash across her exposed skin. She crossed her arms across her chest trying to keep her body heat. She really was in the wrong kind of dress for a journey like this. "Easy to say when you at least have the courtesy of a jacket," she muttered to herself, making the mistake of thinking that he was asleep.

He wasn't. He opened his eyes and they raked up and down her for a moment before he scooted forward. "That!" he said suddenly with a flourish of his hand, "is an excellent point!" Suddenly she was surrounded by a puff of purple smoke. It dissipated before she realized what it was and had time to move away from it. When it cleared away she saw that she was wearing a thick cloak that covered her shoulders and traveled down the length of her gown, adding weight and heat to her lap as well as sheltering her bare skin. There were slits in the front that allowed her arms to stay free but they too were covered with warm leather cloves that ran up to her elbows. She turned her arms around and over the cloak, noticing that it even had a hood.

She wanted to be angry at him, to be upset with him, but she'd been raised better than that. Better to rebuke someone when they did something kind and polite. She wouldn't have frozen in the carriage, but she would have been very uncomfortable for the rest of the journey. "Thank you," she muttered bitteryly as his head fell back against the carriage again, comfortably. He didn't respond to her. She couldn't help but stare at him as she let the cloak warm her skin and bones.

No one was that evil. It just wasn't possible. She had thought maybe he was an exception, or so close to being purely evil that it would be hard to tell the difference. Was he that evil? Or was it just a façade? Was there really more to him than what he appeared or how he acted toward the world? Maybe that was the reason that he didn't scare her. She'd always had a sixth sense about people, about who was good and bad. She had doubted that instinct when she first saw him because she hadn't gotten a sense that he was evil or that she should fear him. But maybe she had been right after all. Was there more to him than he appeared? She needed to believe that. She needed him to believe it if she had any hope of freeing the thief from his wrath.

They continued on their journey. Out of the mountains and into a forest. For the next day or so their journey was easy and predictable. When the horses needed rest, they stopped. When they got hungry, there was food. When they passed wells and springs, they drank water. They said very little to each other. Usually he just spat an order to her, "Eat", "drink", "sleep". He left her alone when she needed it, and always, always, he held out a hand for her when she had to get in or out of the carriage. It was something so gentlemanly that it was hard to believe he would do it. But even if they weren't talking, she was watching, she was observing, noting that the farther they strayed the lower his voice got, losing its normal high giddy tone.

It was like he was two people. The high-pitched, giggling, funny voice, the one that changed accents, that was the voice of the beast. The voice of someone who knew more than he let on, who had secrets, and a terrible temper. But the lower voice, the monotone voice, was the serious voice. The voice that belonged to what he was underneath the mask he was wearing to the world. It was that voice that belonged to the person who held the hand out for her, gave her pillows and cloaks for warmth and comfort, and had allowed her to live after doing something so unforgivable as releasing the thief. The voice surprised her so much that she wondered if he was even conscious of the fact that he was using this voice around her. And after a time learning the difference between these two voices, she found herself thinking a strange thought. What if there wasn't just another beast, or creature, underneath his mask. What if there was a man underneath the harsh exterior? No one was that evil, maybe he wasn't, and maybe the evil had simply taken root into what might once have been a kind and good heart. The thought shocked her. And it also gave her an idea.

The beast might not want to let the thief go, but would the man?

Suddenly something caught his interest and he looked around the woods that they were in "I'm losing track of him," he muttered, like it was something that she should have been concerned at. "This forest is too thick," he complained agitated.

"Maybe we should return home," she suggested innocently enough.

"What and let the thief escape?" he asked her, using one of his funny accents. If there was a man hidden under there somewhere it was under layers and layers of time, secrets, and terrible deeds. And she wondered if it was even possible for him to be recovered. "What would people think if I spared the life of someone who stole from me," he told her using his serious voice. But he didn't mean to threaten with his words, he was looking at her like he was trying to teach her a lesson, to see reason. To him this adventure made perfect sense. But she was certain, she wasn't the mad one in this carriage. It was her that needed to show him reason.

"That there's actually a man hiding behind the beast," she argued back, standing firmly in the hunch that she had, the suspicion.

"There isn't," he responded quickly.

"Then why didn't you kill me when I freed the prisoner?" she asked smartly.

"Ah, well I would have, but, ah, good help these days is really hard to find," he argued back intelligently.

He seemed just as skilled with his words as she was. But she wasn't going to stand down, not with the man's life on the line like it was. And besides, he almost seemed to be enjoying the banter between the two of them. And when she asked him about why he hadn't killed her, he had responded with the voice she associated with jokes. Which meant that he hadn't told her the truth about why he had spared her. "I think that you are not as dark as you want people to believe," she confessed "I think that deep down there's love in your heart, and for something more than power" he was looking at her like she was crazy but also with a certain amount of fear. Had she got it right? Had she uncovered a secret?

Suddenly he leaned forward slightly "You're right," he said in his low voice. "There is something I love," she could have smiled. She had the sudden urge to sit next to him, to take his hand and learn about everything that he really cared for. To coax it out of him until he understood that she was a safe person to tell all his secrets to, because she would never tell another soul.

But just as suddenly as it came it was gone, leaving her stunned at her own thoughts and feelings. Where had that come from? She shoved the idea from her head quickly as she could. It didn't matter he had something to tell her, she could tell in the way he was leaning in closer to her. She did the same, curious about what could occupy the space in a heart as black as his seemed to be. It had to be something grand, something powerful. She raised her eyebrows expectantly, urging him to tell her. But instead of telling her honestly he suddenly exclaimed "my things!" in the false voice that said he was lying. The original was true, there was something that he loved, but it most certainly was not his things.

She sat back in her seat, disappointment making her shake her head at him. She was foolish to think that he would tell her the truth, to have expected anything less than a joke from him. The way he treated torture and death it probably was a joke to him. He held up his hand and she heard the horses whinny as the carriage slowed to a stop. They were still in search of the thief, and if there was a man under all those safe layers he had built around himself, she was having a hard time seeing him. Her hope of saving the man was dissipating every second. "You really are as dark as people say," she sneered. She hadn't meant for it to come out. It was just a thought that popped out of its own volition. But she found herself not regretting that she had said it.

"Oh darker dearie," he told her in a whisper that was equal parts lie and truth. She didn't know what to make of the comment or of that voice. "Much darker," he added as he made to exit the carriage. Maybe this truly was hopeless.


	9. Not That Kind of Deal

She didn't want to be here, and she was giving up hope that she could change the beasts mind. She knew that getting him to see himself as more of a man than a monster was the key to saving the thief's life, but she was having a hard enough time believing it herself at the moment. And then, he stepped out of the carriage taking the bow with him and offered his hand to her, to help her down. She knew she should hate him, and she wanted to more than ever, but every time he did something that angered her he countered it with something that gave her a small glimpse of something more than beast in him. He yelled, and gave her a pillow. She released the prisoner, and he didn't kill her. She chipped a cup, and he hardly paid it any mind. They were small, but great enough to keep that flicker of hope, that the man they were chasing might be saved.

She stepped out into the middle of a forest. In front of their driverless carriage was a greasy looking man on a horse. He had a small caravan of guards with him and they were escorting a carriage of their own with bars on the windows. Prisoners. As they approached the man gave them a menacing glare and dismounted the horse. He staggered losing his balance, then reached for a flask on the horses saddle. She really hoped they weren't going to be talking to this man. He smelled like he hadn't bathed in ages and his staggered gate told her exactly what was in that flask. That same instinct that told her Rumpelstiltskin wouldn't hurt her now told her to stay as far away from this man as she possibly could.

Despite her hopes she watched as Rumpelstiltskin walked up to the man, his own gate changing as he did. Instead of proud and certain, he stooped low suddenly and cast his eyes to the ground. "What are you doing in my woods!" the stranger yelled at the pair of them, doing his best to strut proudly toward them.

"Pardon the intrusion Sheriff, ahem" he took on a funny irregular accent, like he was a beggar instead of the powerful dark monster that he was. A Sheriff. The man was a law man? He certainly didn't look like a respectable sheriff, nor did he appear to act like one. "I'm looking for a thief, he attacked me with this bow" he gestured at the bow in his hand and the Sheriff looked at it with interest "I chased him as far as these woods and then he vanished."

"Yes I know exactly who your after" he said examining it, but then he glanced up at Rumpelstiltskin and looked him up and down, like he had forgotten all about what they were talking about. Living in a drunken haze could do that to a man. "But I also know who you are…Rumpelstiltskin."

Her first instinct was to panic. She didn't know why he had wanted to keep his identity secret but now that he knew who he was she expected that the plan had taken a turn for the worst. But as she watched him, he didn't panic, his back straightened and the fake accent he was sporting suddenly fell away. "My reputation precedes me" he flourished his hand "excellent" he said almost happily

The stranger smiled, but not in a friendly way, it was a snide sneer "yes, as does your penchant" the man gave a hand flourish of his own mimicking Rumpelstiltskin, mocking him. She thought that it was a foolish thing to do, but then again he didn't strike her as an intelligent person. "For making deals," the man had said the magic word and she watched as Rumpelstiltskin took a small step closer to him, interested in the thought of making a deal with the man. "I'll tell you where you can find your thief, if" she eyed the man suspiciously. "If?" he was earning less and less respect every second. He was the town sheriff, charged with protecting the people, if there was a thief about he should be happy and eager for help catching him, not making deals to get what he wanted and allow others to take justice into their own hands. No, she didn't like this man one bit, he was far too slippery for her trust. "You give me something in return" she watched as the man took a drink from his flask. He was probably the poorest excuse for that sheriff that she had ever seen. He was by far more crooked than half of the criminals she had met in her life. But Rumpelstiltskin was hooked and she watched him step toward the man and gestured for him to come closer with his hand.

"What do you want," she heard him whisper.

Suddenly the Sheriff looked up at her. Her stomach rolled, she'd felt sure he hadn't the sense to even notice that she was there. But now he pointed in her direction and she didn't even like knowing that she was on his mind. "A night with your wench" he slurred.

Her jaw dropped and she took a small timid step away from him, meaning to go back to the carriage, but couldn't get her legs to work. How dare he even speak the thought?! She was a princess! She was a royal woman of noble blood! She was a…she was his property. That was the deal that she had made to save her village. Her life was no longer her own, her choices, her desires, weren't up to her.

Fear wound its way up her spine and put a chill in her blood. She was vaguely aware of Rumpelstiltskin looking back at her. Was he actually considering this? She knew how much he wanted to find the thief that had stolen his wand, he had obviously wanted to punish her for letting the man go, but this was extreme even for him. Was he really going to allow such a thing? Was she? No, she wouldn't just go with him, but she was afraid that her options were limited. She could run. No, he'd find her. She was beginning to think that she wouldn't be able to find a place to hide that he couldn't find if only he looked hard enough. But certainly whatever punishment he would give her for running away would be more welcome than what this man would do to her if she went with him.

"Ah," her heart sped up as he began to speak, knowing that the next words could seal her fate. "She's not for sale," he said. Relief hit her, shaking her free of the paralyzing fear she'd felt only moments ago. He had said it with certainty, the smallest amount of shock in his voice, like he was surprised that he would actually ask for such a thing. Surprised that he thought he would just give her away like that. He had said that he loved his possessions, maybe he wasn't the worst person she could belong to.

The Sheriff gave a small laugh. "You can't part with her for say an hour," he was gazing at her again, the way that a predator would watch his prey, and she felt embarrassed and exposed the way his eyes were raking up and down her. "Twenty minutes?" He wouldn't give this up, even after Rumpelstiltskin had made it clear who she belonged to. He sickened her. The fish she'd eaten this morning turned dangerously in her stomach and she just wanted to be away from here, away from him. Far, far away.

Rumpelstiltskin remained silent throughout the man's useless bartering. But then he put his hand to his head "let me think," he muttered and for that moment fear crept back into her and she seriously considered running from them both, but then with a flick of his hand he drew thick black smoke from the man's mouth. She watched in horror as the Sheriff suddenly started to gag and choke and made useless grunting noises. Rumpelstiltskin gave him a playful giggle, and it was then that she saw that the man's tongue lay in the palm of his hand. "I propose a new deal," Rumpelstiltskin suggested with a hint of malice in his voice. She didn't know he felt this protective of her. Why would he? She was only his property. "I give this back to you," he said holding up the disgusting organ "and in return you tell me everything you know about the man I am hunting," he insisted in a snapping voice. This deal wasn't optional. He was going to get what he wanted whether the man complied or not. It was made perfectly clear, but she watched him as he humiliated the man further, holding the tongue up and waving it in front of his face. "You ought to be more careful with your possession!" he taunted shaking the vile thing. Ordinarily she should feel angry or disgusted at his actions, but she was still reeling from the suggestions he had made. She just couldn't feel anything more than disgust for the drunken lawman. She wondered if Rumpelstiltskin felt the same way.

"Do you agree to my terms?" he asked coyly, as if the man had a choice. His eyes were wide, reminding her of a bug as he attempted to answer him. "What was that" Rumpelstiltskin asked, taking joy in the man's suffering. She would never say it out loud, but, secretly, she thought he deserved it. Being bullied might give him a taste of his own medicine and make him think twice before he tried to force his will upon another woman, or anyone else for that matter. The man tried to speak, each time more and more desperately, but all he could manage was a grunt. "Oh I'll take that as a yes then!" and in a flash of black smoke and a haze of coughing the organ was returned. The man breathed heavily and pinched the body part between his fingers a few times making sure everything was back where it belonged. Rumpelstiltskin pointed at him "Start talking," he ordered, a hint of threat behind the words.

"The man who you're after," the sheriff offered quickly, like he couldn't get the words out of his mouth fast enough "I've been chasing him for years" he pointed to himself, his anger seeping into his voice and replacing his fear "He ruined me!" he screamed, "he stole the woman I love, and made me the laughing stock of all of Nottingham" she seriously doubted that it was all the thief's fault. Knowing this man and how he had treated her and disrespected the honorable job he possessed, the thief might have done something to him, but she could see that his heart was black. The faults to the Sheriffs life no doubt came from a problem with his soul.

"Where can I find him?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, happy he was getting what he really wanted. She was happy too. The faster they found out the information the faster they could leave. It also meant that she'd have less time to convince him not to kill the thief but she wanted to be away from here so desperately she didn't care.

"Last I heard, he was hiding out in Sherwood Forest" the Sheriff explained diligently.

Rumpelstiltskin nodded and took a step toward the man. "And his name?" he asked with a curious whisper.

"Robin Hood," the Sheriff answered, spite dripping from his voice "He goes by Robin Hood."

Rumpelstiltskin turned back to her, a smile on his face and left the man standing there without another word. The Sheriff didn't seem upset, he seemed happy the encounter was over and could be put behind him. But he cast one last glance of regret at her that made her back away from him with a sneer on her face. It made her so sick that for a moment she thought she might actually be. But then Rumpelstiltskin was there in front of her. He placed a protective arm around her waist turning her away from the beast before them. Their backs turned on the man and the arm was replaced by a gentle steadying hand at the small of her back as he led her back to the safety of the carriage. Although she had thought she was to upset and too disgusted to ever let him touch her, she found that with the sheriff standing behind her, she was thankful for it. In fact, it was almost comforting. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't the worst thing lurking in these woods. Maybe the worst just came in prettier wrapping.

He offered her his hand again, helping her back into the carriage before getting in himself. After a moment the driverless carriage jerked to life, and she looked out the other window not even wanting to throw the sheriff a backward glance. The situation could have been much worse, and she was happy to leave it behind. "Thank you" she muttered, truly meaning it for the first time, as they rolled forward. Those two words weren't enough to express how incredibly grateful she was that he hadn't traded her for the information. But her sincerity would have to do for now.

"I don't make those kinds of deals," he muttered in the low serious voice, and casting her a strange look before avoiding her eyes and looking out the window as well. Who would have thought that he had a moral code of ethics? She would have thought that he'd make a deal with anything that breathed. She smiled, he was more of a man than they both thought. And if she wasn't mistaken, he seemed to have something of a soft spot for her. He wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't trade her. Now she knew that it wasn't just a hope that there was a man behind the beast, it was the truth. The only question was if she could find it again, and figure out how to spare Robin Hoods life.


	10. Wearing Off

They hadn't traveled far before the carriage had stopped and he'd helped her out again. Then, before she had any time to process what was happening he was taking off into the forest, the prospect of completing his mission encouraging him every step of the way. She took off after him, the prospect of stopping him from completing his mission encouraging her own steps. "You can't do this!" she called after him, trying desperately to do anything to slow him down. He was fast and she wasn't exactly dressed to be running through the forest.

"I can and I will" he responded, throwing the words at her over his shoulder, there seemed to be no stopping him. She was running out of time, and that meant that so was Robin Hood.

"But it's wrong!" she called out.

"So was his decision to steal from me!" She rolled her eyes. She'd heard that excuse from him too many times on this journey and it was wearing thin on her. Justice had nothing to do with it. He was doing this for revenge, plain and simple. But somehow she knew that pointing that out to him right now, wasn't going to help the situation.

"But there must be a reason why! Something we don't know."

"If he truly needed it, he could have made a deal, just like everyone else in this realm who wants something from me."

She couldn't help but snort at that comment, "Because making deals with you always works in favor of the other person." Her dress was caught on a branch and as she yanked the fabric up she heard it tear. She grit her teeth together trying to remind herself that the dress was already stained, and it wasn't what mattered now.

"That, Dearie," he said, spinning around to meet her judgmental gaze "is the…" suddenly he got very quiet, she looked him over, confused at what was happening. Then she heard it, the loud whinny of a horse and the rattle of carriage wheels. This was it, she'd run out of time. He turned and walked forward, she followed.

"You know, it's still not too late to turn back," she told him. But if he heard her it didn't appear to have any impact on him. He was listening for something. The horse again. "You know I'm not going to stand by and watch you kill a man!"

"Well you're welcome to sit if you like!" he exclaimed turning back at her with irritation in his voice "but you are going to watch. That's the whole point of our little expedition, remember," he turned and began walking timidly in the same direction again "to see what your actions wrought." Funny, she thought this was about getting that stupid wand back. She didn't care if he was sick of listening to her, or if she annoyed him. She couldn't give up.

She heard another faint whinny off in the distance and her heart beat again. Had he heard it? When she turned back to face him it appeared that it hadn't mattered. Something else had caught his attention. It appeared that they'd arrived at the top of a steep hill, and looking down below them she saw Robin Hood. He was here, leaning against a tree, out the in open looking around. The stolen wand was visible in his hand. Was he hoping not to get caught or was he waiting for something?

"Found him!" Rumple said loudly enough for her to hear but not enough to break the silence in the wood and alert the man.

She heard the sound of hoof beats again, and the sound of wheels turning. He looked in the direction of the carriage they'd been hearing and his expression changed. "He's, he's waiting for someone," she pointed out, watching him look out for the sight of the carriage. As soon as she saw the single horse pulling a flat cart behind it round the bend he took off for it. Before their eyes, the two faceless men that had been pulling the cart quickly unhitched it and mounted the horse before riding away at a gallop. The cargo appeared to be a person, a woman. Even from far away she could see that she was deathly pale, wrapped in blankets, and she was coughing. The deep hallow sounds of each hack shaking her body carried up to the hill they were standing. "That woman," she muttered staring as Robin Hood seemed drawn to her side.

"That must be the one that he stole from the sheriff," Rumpelstiltskin clarified. It didn't surprise her that he would only pick up on the negative. Once a thief always a thief. Truth of the matter was, after her own encounter with the disgusting man, she very much doubted "stealing" had actually taken place. If it were her, she'd have gone willingly. Women were not property they had emotions and feelings and treating them like they were property or a tradable commodity was not the way to win a woman over.

Another chopped, labored, cough reached her ears. Robin Hood gently brushed the hair off of her fevered white face and gripped the wand in his hand, looking her over like he was trying to figure out where to start. At her side she could see Rumpelstiltskin fiddling with an arrow in the enchanted bow, preparing to take aim. She wasn't giving up! She reached out and covered his arm with her hand, forcing him to lower the weapon. She had to make him see. "She's sick, she's going to die," she wasn't a doctor but looking at the woman, it was obvious that she didn't have a lot of time left, she already looked like death.

"And so is he," he muttered trying to raise his arm again.

"Stop!" she yelled forcing his arm back to his side again. He was waving the wand over her body, and suddenly it all became clear to her: why he wanted the wand, why he would dare to break into the castle to get it, and what made his entire ordeal worth it. Watching the expression on the woman's face when he met her gaze only fueled her suspicion. He really hadn't stolen her away; he'd just fallen in love with her. True love was something that everyone dreamt of, and if you were one of the lucky ones that found it in your life time anything was worth it if you got to keep it. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't so heartless that he was blind. Surely he had to see this too.

She watched, amazed, as he swept the wand down her body, slowly her coughing became less and less severe until it didn't even appear that her breathing was labored, and as it climbed back up her body her coloring started to return, her skin turning olive, her cheeks pinking, even her hair took on a healthier gleam. The two of them smiled at each other, looks of happiness etched into their faces of relief. She couldn't help but smile too. It had been hard to remember the good in people since she came to serve Rumpelstiltskin, she had started to think that maybe she was wrong, that people were as black or white as they seemed, but Robin Hood gave her hope. There was good and bad in everyone, it was only a matter of finding it.

"I'm right about him, about why he stole the wand!" she said more for herself than for him, but it appeared to have caught his attention "he did it so he could heal the woman he loves," she knew that she was moved by his actions but didn't know she'd been moved to tears. It was a beautiful and wonderful act of sacrifice, tears were appropriate.

"He's still a thief," Rumpelstiltskin countered.

"She would have died if he hadn't stolen your wand," she yelled at him, her contempt for this entire journey dripping from her words. Hadn't he figured out how absurd this entire thing was?!

"And now he gets to die!" he shouted back at her "and she can tell all of Sherwood Forest what happens when you cross Rumpelstiltskin! There!" With a flash of his hand it felt like the earth had disappeared out from under her. She gave a gasp and tried to brace herself before she realized what had happened. She was buried up to her waist in the ground. She tried to pull herself up out of the hole he'd place her in but the more she struggled the more it felt like the dirt and soil held onto her. She couldn't move. She couldn't fight. She was helpless. "That should give you a good view!" he taunted, his hand still raised.

He wasn't wrong, from where she was she could still see the two of them, but from here she could do nothing to help. Her fingers curled in anger against the ground. She wanted to yell at him, shout all her angry and frustrated words at him. But that wasn't going to help anything. He would let her go eventually, but the fate of Robin Hood relied on her ability to keep calm and use logic. She'd seen good in him before, when she'd chipped the cup, when he didn't kill her after she'd released Robin Hood, and when that ridiculous excuse for a Sheriff had tried to trade information for her. That was the Rumpelstiltskin that she needed to find, not the monster before her now. Harsh words would only goad him on. This required delicacy. "You don't have to do this!" she told him as he positioned the arrow and drew back. "There's good in you," she knew that he was listening, he hadn't released the arrow, so he had to be listening to her words. "I was right about the thief and I'm right about you," he remained still.

She was suddenly distracted as the woman on the cart jumped up dropping the blanket and swishing her long cloak back. Her stomach churned. The woman's belly was swollen and round, the stakes had just gone up. "Look! She's pregnant!" She watched as Rumple lowered the bow and arrow staring at the two of them. He did appear to have a heart. Whether it was the woman or her words she couldn't be positive but something had caught his attention, something had softened him. That she could use to her advantage, and in this situation she had to use every bit of help she could get. "You are not the kind of man to leave a child fatherless," if she was any indication, he had a penchant for protecting the innocent. The child was innocent, she needed him to realize that.

Robin Hood helped the healthy woman down from the carriage, and the happy couple embraced like nothing was wrong, like everything was perfect. They had no idea just how close danger really was. She thought that she had him, thought that they were getting somewhere, but before she had time to stop him in one quick movement he pulled back the string, took aim, and released. "No!" she cried after the arrow, wishing that it could hear her words and turn back. It whizzed through the air, but instead of killing Robin Hood, it buried itself in the cart the woman had arrived on.

Robin Hood and his bride looked around them frantically, but couldn't see the two of them on the hill. He muttered something to her that she couldn't make out with the distance and then the two of them fled to the horse and mounted quickly. Her heart hammered and shock made her eyes widen. "What happened?" she asked glancing up at him, still trying to put the pieces of what she'd seen together in her head.

"I missed," he muttered, disappointment in his voice. The sound of the horse's hoofs pounded in her ears as it galloped off carrying the two of them to safety. She could do nothing but stare as the pair left. It had all happened so quickly. With another gesture suddenly her feet touched something solid, and the pressure against her belly disappeared. With a breath of relief she realized that he had released her from the hole and been set on solid ground. "Get back to the carriage," he ordered watching them disappear into the fog, "I'm bored with this forest."

"You're, you're not going after him?!" It seemed too good to be true.

He shook his head slightly, "He's not worth the efforts."

She felt like she was beaming, happiness and pride counteracting the fear and shock she had experienced only a moment ago. She wasn't wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed. "You spared his life," she pointed out, trying to hide the surprise. But the smugness in her voice was evident. She couldn't help it. She felt, strange as it was, proud of him.

"What?!" he asked like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, but as she approached him she could see the look on his face, hear the false shock in his voice. He was good. He was dark too. But there was goodness in him. She might have been the only one in the world to see it. It wasn't much, but it was just enough. Enough to give her hope for the days and years and the eternity to come. "I did nothing of the sort," he insisted.

He was trying to cover it up, but it was too late, she had seen all she needed to. He couldn't hide from her any more. He could pretend that he was dark, evil, and sinister. But there was more to him than that, and she wasn't going to just let it go. He'd given her liberties before, protected her, given her allowances, maybe he would allow her just a few more. He had once said that she was special, exactly how special was she? Special enough to show him that he was more than he thought? Special enough to prove to him that there really was good in him? "That bow has magic in it. It never misses its target." She pointed out blankly, wondering what he would do to worm his way out of that fact.

"Well, perhaps the magic just simply wore," his annoyed voice caught in his throat as he turned to face her, looking down at her from his slightly high place on the hill. His emotions, his thoughts, were hard to figure out. He looked surprised almost, like he had just realized something important. Was it the goodness in him? And what had made him change his mind? Was it the woman? The child? Dare she even think that maybe she was special enough for her words to have sunk into him? Was it her?" off" he breathed, finally finishing his sentence.

She felt her mouth twitch, her will to keep her happiness to herself failing. Something had worn off, but it wasn't the magic in the bow. She didn't plan for it, didn't know she was going to do it, and didn't have time to think whether or not it was proper. But she found herself reaching up, standing on her tip toes, and throwing her arms around his neck. He didn't return the gesture, instead took a timid step back shocked by her sudden movement.

She was surprised herself, it didn't disgust her, it didn't even shock her. Even if she was the only active participant, something about the embrace just felt right. The thought made he pull away, knowing that it was making him uncomfortable, feeling strange that it wasn't making her uncomfortable. She smiled at him, instinctively patting his cloak down where she had folded it back. She couldn't help but smile as she turned away from his shocked face. He had walls and defenses, maybe it was time someone broke them down and learned who he really was.

Suddenly she realized that she was walking back to the carriage but she couldn't hear his steps coming after her. She turned back. He was still standing there, looking at her like she completely baffled him. And he still had that same look on his face like he had just discovered a great secret, "Aren't you coming?" she asked her eye brows raised. Her words shook him from his daze and he turned back and gathered the quiver of arrows from where he had set them against the tree.

Looking him over she found herself smiling again. She was special. Could she be the only one that had ever seen him as more than the Dark One? Could she make him see himself as more than the Dark One?


	11. Unexpected Gifts

To say she was glad the journey was over was an understatement. Cold nights, uncomfortable days, the stress of not knowing what was going to happen...yes, she was very glad it was all over. But still she wouldn't regret freeing the man, Robin Hood. Not before Rumpelstiltskin had dragged her across half the realm searching for him and not after he had released him for good. Of course he wasn't going to admit that it was her that had convinced him. He would stick with claiming that it just wasn't worth his while. But it didn't matter, at the end of the day he was alive, and the child that had been within the woman still had a father. That was what was important. The fact that she appeared to have some influence over him was secondary.

She never thought she'd be relieved to see the castle, but she'd never seen something more comforting than the fire in the hearth. She glanced at the bow and quiver of arrows he brought back in with him, a small smirk crossing her face. She'd won after all, and while she wouldn't point it out, she wouldn't forget it any time soon. "Looks like you won't be needing that bow anymore." She hadn't meant it to sound cocky, but it certainly came out that way, and with all the cockiness he displayed on a daily basis she didn't feel any compulsion to correct it or apologize. Considering their situation, she doubted she would ever actually have a comfortable conversation with him, so an apology wasn't necessary. Although if this trip was any indication, she might not be as much a slave as she thought she was. She really didn't know what that meant, but she was going to find out. And for now, it meant that she was just a caretaker, as he had claimed when they first met. She could live with that.

"Actually I think I'll hold onto it," he commented coming to a stop "you never know, could come in handy some day," he said unloading them onto his chair.

It would be going into his collection no doubt, one more item to dust, as of tomorrow. But it wouldn't be a problem for her. To her it represented triumph. It was part of her own little collection, a collection of good memories. They had been all that had sustained her since she arrived. But who would have thought that she would make a one here? Or rather, with him?

She turned back to where he stood, actually looking forward to getting back to her cell for a good night's sleep. "Well, uh, if you don't need me for anything else, good-night, Rumpelstiltskin." Still feeling that smirk tugging on her lips, she walked away to go to bed.

"No wait!" she turned back, worry crossing her face. She hadn't expected there to be anything else. Had she been wrong? Was he upset with her? Had she overstepped on ther previous comment? He wouldn't do anything to her, even if he was upset over everything that had happened. If anything he would just add more chores. She hoped it was nothing that had to be done tonight; she really was ready to spend some time with only herself, even if it was in a chilly dungeon. "There is something else," he added, timidly, then waved over his shoulder and shuffled awkwardly. The look on his face didn't resemble the look he gave for revenge or even anger. It was something else, something she hadn't seen before, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Without a word, he turned and left the room. She followed after him, with curiosity, wondering where he could possibly be taking her. She hadn't been here that long and she hadn't really explored the large castle much. None of the chores that he had given her really required it. His living space to collect his laundry, the kitchen to make meals, the great room to dust, and the line outside for drying, these were the only places that she had ever had reason to visit. Otherwise she sat in her small cell, or the kitchen, sometimes by the fire when he was out, and dreamt about the world outside these walls. She'd been happy to find that book before going out after Robin Hood, it gave her some comfort, some measure of the familiar life she'd led. But she'd survived without it before and she could survive without it now. She'd go back to her day dreams, or maybe start to explore the rest of this castle. Maybe figure out what secrets it held. Maybe she could make it the home she longed for.

And so she followed him, along narrow hallways, passing large open rooms, and up stone stairs. He led her to a tower, the stairs wound up and up so high her legs began to shake with the effort, wondering how long it would take to reach the top. But then the stairs ended and as she came to the top she looked out on a room that made her so happy she thought she might actually cry.

Books.

Books, everywhere!

In shelves made of wood that reached to the roof, some stood tall and proud others looked neglected and broken, their pages yellowed and swollen from water damage, books that were new, and books that were old. She didn't care it was such a beautiful sight that she had the sudden urge to sing and dance, but words seemed to escape her. She thought she'd been lucky to find that one book on the mantle before freeing Robin Hood. She had no idea that there had been an entire room simply stuffed full of her hearts delight!

And that wasn't all. The room she saw before her might look grey and dank now, but she could see through that to a time that it had been simply gorgeous in a fair and common sort of way. Now it held comfy, if dusty, looking chairs. Some had limp, lifeless rags, that had once been beautiful blankets thrown over them, but a good beating and she knew that they would be good as new. The chaise she'd been using in the great room had somehow made its way up here, pillows and all. And on the far side there was even a fireplace that could be lit during cold nights like this one. It wasn't just the library she'd wished he'd had, it was the reading room she'd always wanted, even as a child, even when she was a princess. She felt like she was spinning, trying to take too many of the details in at once, trying to see it all in so short a time it was making her dizzy. This was her new favorite spot. Not just in his castle, but in the entire world. It made her happier than the image of her bedroom in her father's palace. She felt like she'd been made for this room and it for her.

"Temper your excitement dearie" he told her as she continued to gawk at the room, completely and utterly overwhelmed by its glum beauty. "This is just another room for you to clean." She smiled, still wide eyed, the only thought forming in her head was that she would be more than happy to put this room back to its pristine condition and keep it that way. If forever was her fate, then her forever had just gotten better than she ever expected it would be.

"It's beautiful," she finally managed to say, staring up at the shelves, wondering if she'd recognize any of the titles. Was it possible that some of the books she'd missed most were here? And the ones that weren't familiar, what adventures would she find within their pages? Would she ever have time to give each one the delicate care it needed? "There's more books in here than I could read in a lifetime," she blurt out, more to herself than to him.

"Then I hope you can clean faster than you can read" he commented probably meaning to joke with her, but before she could let out a retort of her own a book sitting out on a table that had escaped her notice until now suddenly called to her. She picked it up and began to page through it. It felt good just to have it in her hands, and suddenly she realized that she was fighting back joyful tears. For him? It was the most unexpected thing! He'd given her more than she had ever dreamed, with the only condition being that she cleaned it! That was no condition at all! She'd never been given a gift so beautiful in all her life and that included all the birthdays her father had doted upon her.

She was suddenly aware that he was watching her, like always, eternally curious. With a smirk of his own, he was gauging her reaction but also looking expectantly at her. It was as if he was waiting for something. This hadn't been just a happy coincidence, not after he'd taken the book from her. He wasn't showing her this room just because he expected her to clean it. He was giving it to her. Oh, it was still his of course, but she knew that he was replacing what she'd lost a million times over, giving her comfort. Was this his way of apologizing? Was that what he was waiting for? To know that she accepted it. To know that everything between them was ok. "Did you do all this for me?" she asked timidly, knowing he would never really answer.

"I better not see a single speck of dust gathering on any of these books" he ordered, very unconvincingly. He wouldn't say it, but she knew it was hers, a new sanctuary. In that moment their trip through the woods was forgotten and forgiven. She'd upset him. He'd upset her. He'd made up for it. Could she? Who knew how long he'd been here alone, and who knew what his life had been before, what the people he'd known before had been like. You had to know kindness before you could give it. She wondered if he'd ever really known it before she urged him to take pity on that couple in the woods. Could she ever make it up to him for thinking of him as such a horrific beast? Yes. With a smile she knew how she could be forgiven, she could see what no one else did. And she would make sure that one day, he saw it to. It may not seem like much now, but she knew that it would be worth more than this library was to her. There was a man within the beast, and she could see him standing before her now in the monsters skin. He really wasn't as bad as he seemed. "What are you smiling at missy?!"

She set the book down at his joke and walked around the table, suddenly realizing that his jokes were only something he did to protect himself, to keep others at arm's length. She wouldn't be fooled like others would be. She grabbed the hand that he had been pointing at her and held it between her own, a look of surprise and confusion crossing his face as he glanced down at the contact. Had anyone ever willingly touched him in a kind gesture before? "You're not who I thought you were," she admitted, knowing that she truly believed the words "And I'm glad," she said realizing that for the first time, she really was glad, and maybe even a little hopeful for what this adventure might bring.

He stared for a long while, neither of them really sure how to respond to her revelation. Then just as suddenly as the moment had come, it passed. He pulled out of her grasp and wordlessly left the library going back down the stairs they'd come from. She smiled as she watched him go, waiting until the sound of his footsteps disappeared, before she picked up the book from the table and snatched one of the warm blankets up off an armchair. Then she took them back to her dungeon to start a new chapter before nights end.


	12. The Future Isn't Always What It Seems

She'd spent too much time in the library cleaning, stacking, and reordering the precious books. But she'd spent more of that time than she would ever admit reading, instead of cleaning. The price she paid was not hearing the clock that told her it was time to start dinner. As soon as she realized it, she was out of the library, hurrying down the stairs, careful not to trip over her yellow gown, heading for her tiny kitchen. But when she came into the entry way she stopped dead in her tracks.

It looked different. Something had changed. It wasn't just that it was brighter, or cleaner, but it look pleasant. It smelled…wonderful. It confused her. She didn't know what but something had changed since this afternoon when she'd gone up to the tower. She glanced around eagerly, what was it that made it different. Suddenly she spotted the reason sitting on the table: flowers! Dinner forgotten, she hurried over to the bundle, perched in the vase, and beamed. She hadn't done this. She'd wanted to, but with winter moving in, there were no fresh flowers out in the grounds. Had he done this then? Had he set the flowers out? It was so…unlike him. But if she hadn't done it, there left no other option.

They weren't perfect. There were dying ones mixed in with the living ones. But it was an excellent first attempt. It brought life into the castles, something it desperately needed. It made the cold stone walls homey in a way. With delicate hands she set her book on the table and brushed some of the silky petals into order before leaning forward to smell them. They were a wonderful treat, a beautiful, and unexpected surprise.

Suddenly the door to the great room flew open and she found herself jumping back away from bouquet. His confident demeanor fled the moment she met his gaze and he stopped in his tracks at the doors threshold, looking shocked that he'd run into her, perhaps even a little embarrassed. There were a million things they could have said, a million questions she wanted to ask him, but instead what followed was the awkward silence that had haunted them ever since he'd given her the library.

"Ah," he paused his fingers flexed as he tried to decide what to say to her. She decided that subtly was the best way to handle the sudden appearance of the flowers and did her best to pretend she hadn't been admiring them. "Hold dinner for just a few extra minutes," he finally said after a moment "I, ah, I'm going to be a bit late tonight." His voice was high pitched again, not as bad as she knew it could be, but not as serious as it could be. He was hiding himself, but from what she didn't know. She couldn't even form the thoughts properly in her head to begin guessing. What was wrong with her?

His presence, his request, the flowers, it all caught her off guard and she found herself suddenly fumbling to pick up the book she'd set on the table, accidentally dropping it instead, the bang echoing through the empty foyer. "How, how long," she asked breaking their eye contact to reach down and grab it. When she returned from picking it up, she saw that he had taken a few steps closer, like he had wanted to pick it up but stopped himself just in time. "How late will you be?" she asked, the noise finally sobering her mind enough to talk. Still, she found herself blushing at the clumsy incident.

He kept his distance staring at her strangely for a few moments, then giving his head a small shake, like he was ridding himself of some unwanted thought and had to clear his head too. "Not long," he answered sharply. They stared at each other for a short while, before she realized that sooner or later one of them was going to have to move around the other. Why would she be nervous about that? Why would he? They'd shared a carriage during their hunt for Robin Hood why was the entry way suddenly too small when they were in it together?

"I'll, uh," she swallowed, and held her book close to her chest, her grip tightening around it. "I'll get started," she concluded, suddenly happy that her late start would go unnoticed "it shouldn't be long."

"Just long enough," he piped up suddenly, with a look that told her he was just as surprised he'd responded to her comment as she was, but quickly brushed it off as he pointed to the door behind him, "I have business," he added.

"Right!" she exclaimed, smiling as she realized how loudly she'd said the word. She blushed again, or maybe just worse, as she realized why he was still standing there. He was waiting for someone, she was in the way and he wanted her to leave. Why hadn't she seen that a moment ago? And why hadn't he just said the words? "I'll, uh, go," she motioned, "make dinner, then," she finished, embarrassed at her stuttering. She couldn't remember ever feeling this awkward in her life, but lately, she just couldn't seem to help it.

He moved aside as she got closer to the door and was suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart, the red in her cheeks, and her careful examination of the floor before her as she tried to avoid his eyes. It seemed to take forever, but finally she closed the door to the great room behind her and found herself leaning against it like she was trying to keep him out. Immediately her mind felt clearer again and her body relaxed slightly now that she was away from him again.

Her life at the castle seemed to have taken a startling turn since they'd arrived back from Sherwood forest. She would have guessed that sharing the close confines of the carriage, his wordless acknowledgement that she'd been right, and the wonderful library would have made it easier on them somehow, but instead it was just…strange. She couldn't describe the feeling. She couldn't understand what was causing it. They knew they were here, and yet every time they came face to face, they seemed to dance around each other like they were surprised to find another human being. Neither seemed to know what exactly to say or do in the wake of Robin Hood.

Suddenly a loud bang on the other side of the door made her jump, and she hoped that he hadn't heard the way she had knocked her head at the noise. "Why didn't you come when I called you?!" demanded an unfamiliar, young female voice. His "business" had finally arrived. It was a good thing she'd left when she did, otherwise the stranger would have walked in on the both of them, and she knew that the Rumpelstiltskin that had taken to fumbling with his words when she was around, was the kind of man he'd rather not let others see. She didn't know him well, in fact she didn't know anything about him at all, but she knew that he was different around her. The way he'd been acting lately was a far cry from the beast that had walked into her father's castle, or the one that had gone off in search of Robin Hood. She was grateful for it of course, she just wished she understood what caused it.

"Sorry, dearie, do I know you?" she heard him joke in his higher pitched voice on the other side of the door. It was like their encounter had never happened, he'd gone right back to being the dealmaker, the creature the world recognized him as, but not her. All that she'd seen since she'd come here, she doubted she'd ever really be able to see him completely as a monster again.

Satisfied she hadn't interrupted his business, she pushed herself off the door and took a quiet step toward the kitchen. "I already have a maid," she stopped in her tracks at the words. It was the first time she'd ever heard him reference her and although she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't help but hold her breath hoping to hear more. What had sparked that comment? Had his company come seeking a job? Her job?! It was an unimaginable thought. He wouldn't give her away, would he? He wouldn't make her leave. He wouldn't just replace her on a whim or…

She shook her head at the strange overwhelming thoughts, trying to reason with herself. She was captive. She should want to leave and go home. She should want to be free. So, why did the thought that he would replace her make her feel more flustered than those moments they accidentally collided with one another? "Promising girl, actually," she finally heard him comment.

"You know who I am!" the woman responded, but she didn't hear the rest of the words. Their voices faded away behind her as she found herself moving forward and quickly disappearing down the stairs at his words. Her mind felt cloudy again, and she was trying to ignore the relief that had pulsed through her veins as she realized she wasn't going to have to leave. Absent-mindedly she entered her kitchen and began the preparations for dinner, but her thoughts wandered.

She was certain that he hadn't meant for her to hear the words, but now that she had, she couldn't get them out of her mind as she cooked. "Promising?" What did that mean? She was promising? He'd never complimented her on her work. He'd never really given his approval of what she'd been doing. But then again he'd never disapproved or chastised her for it either. And, frankly, he wasn't the kind of man to ever admit when he was happy about something, he tended to prefer brooding in private to happiness. But, did this mean that she was doing a good job? Did this mean that he was happy with her work? With her? It was hard to tell when every time they ran into each other he looked like he'd just run into a dragon! Although it wasn't as though she faired much better on her end.

And what was the cause for their awkward encounters in the first place?! She wasn't terrifying, she was just a 'maid' as he'd so carefully pointed out. He was the Dark One. Why would a maid be able to startle him as she did? But then again why did he have the same effect on her? He was just a man, albeit, a man who had tragically dark powers. A man who used deception and cunning in a way that would make a sphinx jealous, but she wasn't afraid of him. So what was the cause of all this? It wasn't fear or surprise that struck her when they were in the same room, it was just...strange.

She wasn't aware of how much it had consumed her mind until she looked down and saw dinner prepared, and found herself leaning against the wooden table she worked on, rubbing her face with her palms like it would stimulate her brain and give her the answers she sought. She was a smart woman, she prided herself on it, but she just couldn't understand why a riddle like this would stump her. Instinct told her there was a simple explanation for it, but she just couldn't guess what that explanation was. It was silly, this game they seemed to suddenly be players in. She shouldn't be losing time thinking about this, about him, about small comments that he said to a stranger which probably had no meaning at all.

A draft blew around in the stone kitchen and she shivered. The cool air managed to distract her. It was getting colder. Winter was on the way, and she'd noticed the temperature in her space getting colder and colder, longer and longer, as the days wore on. There were no windows, and the small wooden door she had that led out to the grounds was not to blame. It was the fireplace. The same one that was always lit for her, that provided her warmth, was also letting in the chilly drafts as the winds in the mountain had begun to pick up. She looked at the second plate of food she'd set aside for herself. After she'd made sure he'd gotten dinner she'd come back down here to eat. It wouldn't be comfortable. She was suddenly jealous of the nice warm room upstairs that he would eat in. What would she give to eat in a room like that instead of a cold cellar like this...

The image caught in her mind, an idea so obvious, but so bold that it made her muscles tense up. She couldn't! She shouldn't! But almost like it was presenting its own encouraging argument the draft blew again, a little stronger, making the bare skin on her shoulders pucker. She wasn't afraid of him. And what was the worst he'd do? Tell her she couldn't and point her back to the kitchen? With the silence that existed between them, she strongly thought that he wouldn't even bother with something like that! He seemed determined to keep her at arm's length, to pretend that she wasn't here, while the environment seemed to force him to recognize that something was changing around him. How far would that stubbornness persist? How far would hers? She could eat in the kitchen with the uncomfortably cold draft. Or she could eat in the great room in the uncomfortable silence.

With a nervous swallow, she picked up her plate and set it beside his on the tray. When she walked into the great room she saw him sitting predictably in his chair, staring into the fireplace as he waited. He didn't seem frightening at all. How was it that he got anyone to fear him? She took a deep breath and boldly walked into the room with their dinner. She placed his in front of him as always, then looked at her own, she hadn't thought this through entirely. There was no chair at the other end of the table. It sat by the fire, and although she'd never seen him sit there, because he always sat at his wheel, she knew it was still "his". But it was warmer up here, and she really didn't want to take her dinner back to the freezing kitchen.

He was watching her. Curious as to why she was still standing there, she could feel his eyes roam over her and her dinner plate, wondering what was going on? She didn't want him to see her confusion and turmoil. She had to be brave. She had to be confident. She had to be bold! And so, pretending like it was nothing, like she didn't notice him watching her, like she did this all the time, she picked up her own plate and planted herself in his chair by the fire, her back to him so she couldn't see his reaction. Then took a bite and tried to focus on the warmth of the fire shrouding her comfort as his unseen presence fought to make her feel insecure. She listened as she continued to eat, probably a little to enthusiastically in her efforts. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she heard his utensils begin to scrap against the plate. She sighed, and closed her eyes in relief as she let her head fall against the back of his chair. His chair. Another silent infraction she'd commit tonight. Another infraction he didn't seem to mind, or if he did, wouldn't voice. Her mind told her to say something. To explain. To attempt some sort of conversation. But none came. They continued to dine in comfortable silence.

She didn't know what she'd thought her life would be like when she first met him in her father's war room. She pictured being endlessly depressed, never touching a book again, never feeling the joy that simply smelling the flowers had given her. She pictured herself disappearing into the walls of a dark gray castle, losing a bit more of her personality every day, becoming something that she'd never dreamt of. She thought she might look back on her life at her father's palace with jealous remembrance, even thinking of the things that she'd hated with envy. She pictured him screaming at her, ordering her around, and trying her best to stay away from him. If someone had told her the day that she'd met him that none of it was true, that someday they would sit together eating in one room, admittedly in tense silence and without looking at each other, she never would have believed them.

She didn't know what her future had held, but she knew this, strange and indescribable as it was, it was not what she had pictured. She didn't know what would happen in the months to come, but she knew that she should begin to expect the unexpected.


	13. Changing Times

Every morning since her first she had awoken to the sound of the lock on her door clicking open. He was an early riser and released her, she assumed first thing. The loud click of the lock would rouse her up immediately, making her long for the days when she had slept soundly until her body naturally woke her up when it was ready. But this morning was different. She woke to find her door slightly ajar at the angle she'd left it last night and she just couldn't remember him locking it. Mesmerized, she smiled as she examined the door. As if she would be able to see if she had just been deep in sleep and hadn't heard the lock or if he really hadn't bothered. She tried to cook the breakfast without thinking about it, but it kept creeping back into her head. Reading anything, anytime she wanted? Sleeping until she saw fit? Her comings and goings her own responsibility again? Was she really gaining more liberties? Could he really be learning to trust her? Or had his effort to avoid her presence finally peeked?

Things had changed. So much so that the weeks after they returned from Sherwood Forest were unexpectedly awkward. It was as if they didn't want to acknowledge that they were beginning to become accustom to being around one another. So, instead, they stumbled around, carrying out their own lives and tasks until they seemed to accidentally collide. And with a shy smile, or a quick glance, maybe even a slight blush on her part, they went their own ways, barely speaking a word to each other.

The clock chiming startled her from her thoughts and like she had for the past week she carried two plates of breakfast up to him at the proper predictable time. It wasn't so much punctuality he cared about as habit. As their latest "habit" dictated, neither one of them said anything as she sat a plate in front of him. She grabbed her own and sat down with her back to him in the arm chair that he kept by the fire. And even though they didn't share any kind of conversation through the awkward silence there was a relaxing feeling that came with the clanking and clattering of silverware.

She really didn't know what to make of their sudden silences, they'd had no problem yelling at each other before Robin Hood. It was strange, it made her wonder sometimes why he had wanted her there at all? She was his caretaker, but in some ways she was beginning to feel like he was hers as well. Lately, she'd begun to notice certain things that gave her pause. He seemed to look after her in a different way and she couldn't decide how she felt about that.

It started, she supposed, when he had refused to turn her over to that monster of a Sheriff. Anyone else might have seen her as a tradable commodity, but he hadn't. He'd protected her, and it said more about his true nature than he would ever admit to. Then there was the library of course. That had a been a big one. But there were other, smaller ways she was seeing it. She'd never tended to the fire and yet it was always blazing when she came in, keeping her warm against the bitter chill of the mountains bracing themselves for winter. And then there was this. She used to eat in the kitchen but it was lonely and cold. And though she knew that the arm chair was his, he never complained when she first sat down in it to eat. And he didn't say anything about how she now read here every night.

She stared into the fireplace, and finally she heard the scrap of the chair legs and the slam of the door that signaled his wordless departure. With a sigh, she leaned her head back against the chair and looked at the ceiling. He never thanked her, but she never thanked him either. Sometimes it appeared like she was living in a house with a very solid looking ghost. Maybe it was easier that way. There was no tension or ill will between the two of them, not anymore. Their arguments and sins seemed to be forgotten once he'd given her that library. And they seemed to have come to a silent agreement that she wouldn't get in the way of his dealings as long as he didn't flaunt them about. But being in the same room together still felt strange in a way that she couldn't describe. Was it a good sign or a bad sign?

She shook the thought from her head. Breakfast was over and there were chores to be done. And so, she began her morning routine. She took their dishes back to the dark kitchen and set the dishes to soak. Then she went back to her dungeon room, setting aside the blankets that she'd been stockpiling for the cold nights to come she made the pitiful excuse for a bed, and picked up the book that had fallen between the folds. Then she gathered her cleaning supplies and walked the long way up to her own private library. It was her favorite part of the week. Exchanging a finished book for a new one always put a beaming smile on her face. But the promise of new adventure would have to wait for a later time. There were chores to be done. Ones that he hadn't assigned her but made her feel good all the same.

It had started with the library. A simple wish to make the place beautiful and inhabitable again. Once she'd finished there, she couldn't seem to stop and was now on a mission to bring light and life back to haunting gray walls around her. She'd been working her way from the topmost floor of the castle to the bottom. It was large so there was only a room or two that she could get done in a day. The extensive cleaning that they required was exhausting and she longed for the day when all she had to do was light maintenance cleaning. But she was determined to get it all done. There were only two more rooms to do on this floor, she was looking forward to being able to move on tomorrow. She did the same thing to all the rooms, nothing lavish just the basics. She cleaned, dusted, straightened the room, stripping the bed to wash the linens, and made sure to pull all the curtains back adding light to his beloved 'dark castle'. Tea time broke up the work of the day nicely. She could usually do one room in the morning and then one after tea time.

As she heard the chime of the clock telling her it was time to prepare their drink she looked proudly around the room. Nearly fit for a king, or guests at least. Not that they'd ever have any. Last but not least he went to the windows and threw back the curtains. But instead of being enveloped in light she found herself in a cloud of dust so thick she sputtered and tripped, adding another rip to her once elegant attire as she fell to the floor. She coughed and rubbed her eyes free of the dust. The plume began to fade into the floor and she looked down at herself. It was everywhere: in her hair, on her skin, and on, yes even in, her gown.

Her pride was doused by a sudden wave of sorrow for how far she had fallen, literally and figuratively. It usually didn't bother her. If she didn't focus on it she never thought of it but sometimes it crept up on her without warning. Elegant princess to overly dressed maid. It was a long fall indeed. She was fighting to hold back tears when she heard another chime of the clock, reminding her that she was behind schedule. She was grateful for the sudden distraction, it was enough to let her get a hold of herself again. This wasn't who she was: sitting here about to weep because she'd fallen down in the dust. No! She wasn't going to sulk in her own misery, she was going to go and get tea together and tonight she would repair the damage to her only item of dress, wishing that it was better suited for the tasks at hand. She bravely swallowed the lump in her throat, stood up, brushed herself off as best she could and left the room to begin the tea.

Hurrying she started the tea and grabbed a bucket of water to scrub her face and shoulders clean of the debris she had uncovered. The dress was a hopeless case but it had been for a long time. She did her best to make it presentable again but gave up as the tea was ready. How she had managed to clean herself and prepare the tea in time was a mystery to her, but she brought it up to the room only a few minutes behind schedule. He looked her over as she carried it in. She'd seen the look that was on his face before; it was as though he was seeing her for the very first time. It was as if she amazed him or dazzled him somehow. Like each time he was surprised that she hadn't left yet. It was looks like that which made this arrangement awkward, that made her blush because somehow she felt like he could see straight through her.

She set the tray down, watching him pick up the chipped cup as she took her place at the fire, book in her lap, soaking up her few moments of a break. But instead of reading today she stared into the fire, letting the warmth soak into her skin, chasing away the cold, and pushing the sorrow she had uncovered upstairs back down into its hidden crevice.

"Servanthood not everything you hoped it would be?" he said so suddenly in his high pitched voice it surprised her. In fact, she glanced around the room making sure no one else was there and that he was in fact talking to her. When she met his gaze again he lifted his eye brows, still waiting on an answer. He gestured to her, "You look as though you lost a fight with a dusty curtain." How he always knew what she had been doing escaped her. She simply assumed that it was magic of some kind, or maybe part of his ability to see the future, or maybe he really was just that good at guessing. She sat back in her chair, fumbling with her tattered and foul smelling garment, trying to act as though his words weren't getting to her when she had thought them herself only a short while ago.

"It's nothing I can't handle," she assured him, putting a stop to his questioning. He didn't move, just stared into the fire with her, from the corner of her eye she could see him casting strange glances at her as he sipped his tea. He usually partook from his seat at the table. And she was glad when she finally saw him drain the chipped cup and swiftly leave the room.

She let the air out of her lungs, and glanced at the door he departed from; being sure he was gone before she took the tea back to the kitchen, his words still ringing in her ear. The truth of the matter was that she normally didn't have these kind of issues. Servanthood actually was something that she felt she was very good at. The cleaning gave her an opportunity to be busy and to make the castle into what she wanted it to be. Any other tea time she would have told him herself, he'd just picked a wrong time to ask the question. She was certain he hadn't meant to add insult to injury, he didn't treat her like that normally.

She was being silly, and over thinking it. He hadn't meant to make fun of her, he had merely been trying to defuse that strange feeling in the empty space between them. He'd tried to have a conversation, and she'd passed it up! Maybe he sought her company far more than she realized. Somehow instead of putting her mind at ease, it made her feel even worse. It wouldn't happen again. Next time she would be ready, she would welcome it in fact. Maybe it was the only way to change the current status of their interactions.

With the sun sinking she walked back up to where she had left off moving into the next room, refusing to let the previous events disrupt her. She followed the routine, opening the curtains, a little more hesitantly, to let the light in. She stripped the bed, finding a nice blanket that she could use to pad the small wooden bed in her cell, and set the sheets aside for the wash. She righted the tables and dusted them off until they gleamed. Then she went to the large closet, opened the doors, and stopped.

She found the usual, of course, old shoes and musty old jackets. But hanging up was a dress, and the other items paled in comparison to it. It was the first dress she had seen. It wasn't dusty like the others and it didn't smell like it had been sitting there for so long forgotten. It was beautiful. Blue, like the color of the clear sky up in the mountains. Timidly she reached out and touched the linen. It was soft, but made of sturdy material. Next to it was a plain white undershirt, looking cleaner than snow, also soft but strong, and below it a pair of tan shoes.

They were simple but they seemed to entrance her. And she removed them from the closet, looking around the room, expecting to find him looking over her shoulder. They were perfect. Far more suitable than the ball gown she was wearing now, although the short sleeves would make her freeze in the winter. Nevertheless, she laid them out on the freshly stripped bed. Was it just her desires playing tricks on her, or did it look like they would fit her perfectly. She took a step back, away from temptation. She shouldn't. It wasn't proper. Blankets were one thing, but this! If a maid in her father's castle had taken something like this, even if it was forgotten, there would be dire consequences. But she couldn't help but feel like it was meant for her. She looked down at her own gown. The jewels remained but it was nowhere near its former glory. Covered in dust, the mud from the long journey into the woods along the bottom, ripped, torn, and tattered, the puff of the skirts was scratchy and made doing her job more difficult.

No, she really shouldn't. But she was desperate. Slowly she stripped herself of the muck that was her ball gown. She put on the shirt, making adjustments as she went to suit her own preferences, then tied the blue corset around herself lacing it with the strong black thread. She was able to leave her stockings on; they'd been protected by the larger gown since she got here, and found that the skirt settled perfectly over her waist before stepping into the tan shoes. She couldn't get rid of her grandmother's necklace, but found that it suited the outfit.

She was comfortable; she felt like she could breathe, she felt right. It was amazing what a clean set of clothes could do. She thought that she would feel like she was betraying her old self but instead she felt as though she was embracing a new self, a self that actually belonged here. If she didn't know any better she would have thought that he had placed this here just for her.

The thought crashed into her like a rolling wave. Was that where he had gone after tea? Did he do this for her? Like he lit the fires? Like he turned a blind eye when she made herself comfortable in his chair? Or had this truly just been a coincidence? She couldn't work anymore. She was suddenly excited at the prospect and hurried downstairs to sit in the arm chair. She had to know. Was she right? Had he done this for her? Or would he be angry at her taking what wasn't hers? She read as she waited, her eyes only taking in every other word, unable to keep her mind off of what would happen when he saw her in it. Would he be mad? Would he care? Would he think she looked just as beautiful in this as she had in the ball gown? She gawked at her own thoughts. Why would she care about that?! His opinions concerning her didn't matter to her. Did they?

She heard the door open as the sun began to set and she stilled with frightful anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye he appeared walking over to the spinning wheel when he realized she was there. He stopped. She looked up. They stared for a while. He took in the sight of her. She held her breath, bracing herself for his reaction. She watched him, waiting, as he looked, his eyes roaming over her. Both daring the other to make the first move.

When the clock chimed they both jumped. He looked away. She breathed again. Their trance was broken. Quietly he sat at his spinning wheel and began creating his gold, paying her no heed, just like any day. She glanced between him and the fire, and then sat back in the chair relieved of all tension that she had felt. The new book rested against her new skirts, and she began to read. But it didn't feel strange, the squeal of the wheel, his presence, somehow it didn't make her feel awkward...but comfortable, safe, peaceful even. She wasn't sure how it could happen so fast, but in a matter of seconds their deafening silence had turned to companionable space. It was remarkable, and it felt strangely like home, maybe even more relaxing than she had been in her fathers palace.

She shook her head at the stray thought. Out with the old, in with the new. A smile passed over her lips and she sat back in her chair and returned to page one to start over again before dinner.

Yes, things were definitely different.


	14. Hiding Thoughts and Seeking Company

The castle was deathly quiet and peacefully still. In the silent time, she wondered if he had chosen to have a castle up in the mountains with the hope that people wouldn't bother him as much, but magic like his was hard to refuse. They came constantly for him, with problems big and small, some that needed magic and others that really didn't but wanted an easy solution. However, it had been a couple of weeks now since their last visit. She figured that it was the temperature, the bitter wind, and the constant snow. It now made his services pale in comparison to a warm bed and hot fire. Of course this meant that the castle was cold constantly, but still she was enjoying the peace.

She wasn't done cleaning the castle, but some days, when the snow had fallen fresh over night and she was in the middle of a good book, spending the day cleaning seemed like a crime. And so she sat in one of the warmest nooks that she knew of, which just so happened to be by a statue of a gargoyle, her legs tucked under her, with her book in her lap. She liked this space because there was a window against the far side that provided the perfect amount of light and allowed her to see when it began snowing again, just in case she had to go take clothes off the line. She sighed, content to ignore her chores, happy with the comfort this stony hideaway provided her, and looking forward to dinner.

She had to shake her head and put her nose back in her book once more. Random thoughts like that seemed to be entering her mind more and more these days. She'd caught this one with barely an after thought, she was so used to batting them away like they were nothing, and it only showed how good she was getting at containing them. She wasn't that she didn't like them, it was the fact that deep down they confused her more than any riddle ever had. She enjoyed her time alone, her time reading, her time not doing chores, why would she look forward to a dinner spent in the chair by the fire? Why would the idea of tea put a small excited skip in her step?

And why would the distant sound of footsteps on the stairs down the hallway make her smirk?

He'd found her. Again. It hadn't taken him long to stop by the statue she was sitting by and pause giving a small "oh!" of surprise as he caught sight of her. "I, uh, I wondered where you'd scurried off to," he said a little more confidently and with a silly hand gesture she supposed was meant to remind her of a mouse. "Dusting the books again, I see," his voice was low, but not in the serious kind of way. In fact it had only gone higher and taken on an accent at the end of his sentence. A sign that he'd caught himself getting too comfortable around her and quickly corrected it.

She smiled at the comment, he liked to joke that reading the books was her favorite method of dusting them. She had to laugh at it, not because it was a funny joke, but because he was right. "It's, uh, it's my favorite," she admitted holding it close.

"Oh?" he questioned, his voice turning low and serious again. He was genuinely curious, he was always curious, but she liked when he seemed to take an interest in her. It made her...she dismissed the thought. She'd caught it this time before she'd even thought about it. Yes, she was getting better at that.

"Yes, the, uh" she answered timidly, still recovering from her minds latest attempted outburst "the girl has my name. And it has all the elements that truly make a story great, you know. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, even a prince in disguise," she commented, thinking about Gaston. The girl's name was all she had in common with this story. But, strangely, she was ok with that. She smirked, it was yet another stray thought easily chased away. Was it just her, or was it worse when he was around?

"It seems to have found a good home then," he commented with interest.

They stared at each other for a while, but not in the awkward silence they once had shared, just comfortable stillness. She watched him watching her and suddenly remembered that he had come to find her, what would the excuse be this time? "Did you, uh," he kept his distance like he was afraid to get to close to her, but the way he watched her it was like he couldn't bear to take his eyes off of her either. It was the strangest feeling, thinking that he couldn't make up his mind. He was certain about everything...except for her it seemed. "Did you, did you, need something?" she finally asked.

"Ah," he sighed and she could see his fingers twitch awkwardly. "The table!" he said loudly, like the idea had just come to him, she knew that it probably had, "in the dining room. It seemed a bit dusty to me," he added in the joking voice, that told he was trying to be firm and chastise her, but just couldn't bring himself to be cruel.

She nodded and marked her page before standing up, he adjusted his distance so that she didn't get any closer to him than she had when she'd been perched beside the statue, then turned his back and silently led them down the halls and stairs that would take them into the great room. It was only after he'd turned his back that she allowed herself to smile. It wasn't an accident that he'd found her, and she knew for a fact that there was no dusting to be done in that room because she had done it just that morning. He had been looking for her. He'd taken to doing that the past few weeks since he'd had no visitors. It had become her own personal game of hide and seek. She would find a new place to read when she was done with chores and see how long it took for him to find her again. If she was honest with herself it was part of the reason that she chose not to read in her library on days like these.

It was a curious habit he seemed to have developed. He always came to find her, he always made some strange request that he hadn't really thought about, and it hadn't escaped her notice that the request always placed her in the same room as he was. She didn't think that it was her that he was really seeking out, only her company. He would never say the words, but she had come to the conclusion that no matter what had caused him to be cursed as he was, he was just like any other person shut away from other people. He was lonely. They were the only two people in these mountains. It was a big castle, it was only natural that they would want to be in the same room. Wasn't it?

As soon as they entered the great room, she wasn't surprised that he made his way over to his spinning wheel first thing. Careful inspection of the table revealed it was still clean. She couldn't help but glance over at him spinning straw into gold, and feel a sudden pang of sorrow for him. Predictably, he just wanted proof that he wasn't the only living thing here.

She took a deep breath and tried to shake the feeling. She wasn't sure if he knew why he did this everyday. Frankly, she wasn't even sure he knew he was doing it! But something deep down in her didn't want him to know. If he ever did figure it out, he would stop, he would convince himself that he didn't need her company and leave her to her own devices while he sulked somewhere in private, and for some reason she just couldn't stand the thought of that.

And so she kept up appearances. If he wanted her to dust, then she'd dust. It was going to be a very quick chore. Her tools collected, she dusted the already clean table, then made sure the collection was in order, and dusted it again as well. He acted as if he wasn't aware of her, as if it meant nothing to him, but she felt like he looked slightly more relaxed with her moving about him, his shoulders were slumped in a way that suggested comfort, his face was at ease instead of concentrated, even his breathing seemed more even somehow.

Her busy work completed, she knew she only had a few minutes to spare before it would be time to collect dinner. She could spend the time reading or she could move the schedule up a bit, she doubted he would notice, and even if he did, she doubted he would care. Dinner wasn't going to be difficult, not tonight. The cold weather had demanded something warm and she'd had stew over the hearth simmering all day. All she really had to do was scoop it into bowls. "I'm, uh," she muttered, looking around the room that they shared and seeing nothing else to do. "I'll go grab dinner," she decided. Whether or not he heard her, she wasn't sure. He didn't respond but it was so quiet between them that it seemed impossible for him not to hear her.

She made her way down into the kitchen, sometimes she didn't realize how much she missed the squeak of his wheel until it was gone, and the castle around her was still and silent again. Suddenly, as easy as it was going to be to fetch dinner, it didn't seem like she could do it quick enough. The castle was friendly, it had even become warmer in the time since she'd been here, but she hadn't done much work down in the dungeon area. In fact, with the exception of her room, it was cold and dreary even with the fire lit in the hearth. It was for that very reason that she wouldn't be able to start doing any work down here until spring, until visitors started coming again, and he was occupied with deals once more.

She sighed at the thought. This game they played would end. He'd go back to work. She'd be able to read in the library again. Somehow she found herself dreading that day. When it was warmer, life would surely go back to being just as normal as it had been before winter had hit. Busy as she knew she'd be, she found herself thinking that it would be awfully boring, just as it was in these times he was absent...

She shook her head once more, a wordless chastisment. She'd done it again, let her mind roam, those thoughts weren't helpful, they only gave her more questions than answers.

Quickly as she could, afraid the thoughts would come back, she filled two bowls with the stew she'd made and set them on a tray with a couple of spoons and tea then expertly balanced it on her arm and went upstairs. She felt like she could feel the warmth and peace grow the closer and closer she came to that room. When she finally pushed open the door to the room and let herself carry the tray as she should, she smiled to see him already sitting at the table, staring off into the fire with his head perched upon a hand, deep in thought.

It was times like this, when she knew that there was more to him than appeared. She couldn't tell where his mind was, but she knew it wasn't with her in that room. His eyes were gentle and sad in a way. When she started this job she knew that she had to get to know his expressions, the trickster that he was, she'd learned that his words were unreliable for telling her what he was thinking and feeling, what he really wanted. But it was his actions, the tone of his voice and most importantly his expressions that told her the most about him. She knew his expressions, she knew that he was reflecting on something solemn, something that bothered him, but she had no idea what that something was.

They never talked about themselves. They'd grown accustomed to each other, it wasn't as awkward as it had been when they'd returned to the castle what seemed like an eternity ago, but they still never spoke about themselves, always books, or chores, or books, or necessity, or books. It never bothered her before, she'd never really thought about it, but she suddenly found herself wishing that they did, that she knew the reason behind that look, behind that gaze.

She adjusted the tray in her hands and the china tinkled, the sound broke his concentration and he glanced up at her. The look in his eyes shifted again. This time his look was inviting, warm, maybe even welcoming. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he was grateful she'd returned quickly, for the distraction she provided. She didn't know what he'd been thinking of, but if her company helped to easy his mind then she found herself happy that she could provide some comfort.

She took a deep breath and made her way toward him, offering a friendly smile, "I, uh, I made stew," she said placing his bowl before him. "Should ward against the cold," she muttered. He nodded an approval, but leaned away from her again, like he was afraid her arm might accidentally brush his shoulder if she got too close. She picked up her own bowl and sat down in the chair he kept by the fire, the one she spent more time in than he did. The bowl was hot in her hands and she set it in her lap to buffer it against the layers of the long sleeved green dress she'd come across just before the first major snow storm. She listened to the clinking of china as he ate in silence, waiting for her bowl to cool enough to hold it.

She couldn't guess what it was like to be him. What must it have been like before she was here? Not just with the cleaning, but what would it have been like to spend these few quiet weeks alone without any other human soul around? And what was worse? All that time he'd spent by himself without anybody around, or knowing that the only reason anyone ever came to the castle wasn't to see him, but for the magic he possessed? Was that the reason he wanted her here? Was it because he was lonely and needed company? Was it because he wanted someone else to share this space?

Suddenly she clenched her jaw together as the heat from the bowl finally soaked through her dress and began to slowly burn her legs. She quickly picked it up, only to find her bare hands flinching at the contact. It did smell delicious and she certainly could use the warmth against the snowstorm moving across the mountains, but it was just too hot to hold. Behind her, she heard his silverware against the smooth service of the bowl, having no problem, and glanced to the other end of the empty table.

It was silly. They were the only two people around for miles, they shared the same space all the time now, why should sharing a table be such an unspoken terrifying act? With determination, and care for her hands, she picked up her bowl and spoon and strode over to the other side of the table. She tried to act as oblivious as he did when he brought her into the room. But she could glimpse out of the corner of her eye, his surprise while watched her, spoon suspended in mid-air half way to his mouth, as she dragged the heavy chair from the fire over to the opposite end, her end, and set it down with a loud thud. With a small smirk she sat back down, realizing that this was the first time since she'd left her father's castle that she was eating with a proper chair and table.

He didn't do anything and he didn't say anything. He just watched her, stunned for a few moments as she slurped a few mouthfuls of stew and pretended like she wasn't staring back at him from under her eyelashes. Finally, after a few more mouthfuls the moment passed. The brief tension in his shoulders disappeared, the spoon traveled back into the bowl, and they continued their silent meal. They never said a word, never looked at each other, merely glanced from their bowls to the fireplace and back again. When they were through he simply got up and resumed his place at the spinning wheel, she predictably picked up their dishes and returned them to her small kitchen to soak. Then just as always she returned, intending to get a few more hours of reading in before they would go their separate ways for bed again.

She smiled when she got back. He'd been busy while she was gone. The chair at the end had been placed back by the hearth, her book was set upon the cushion and a blanket she'd never seen before was folded across the back, welcoming her to it. He hadn't done it to be rude, or to send a message not to eat at the table again. Others might think that, but she knew better, she knew him. Instead it was done out of kindness. The book and the blanket waiting for her held a silent admission that the spot was hers and he expected her to use it, maybe even wanted her too. For the first time she found herself wondering if he ever had thoughts like she did. She wondered if they perplexed him as they did her.

Hiding her latest ponderings, she smirked, and ignored his subtle curious gaze, as she walked across the room. She wrapped the blanket around herself, sat in the chair, happily with her book in her lap, and was content to listen to the crackle of the fireplace and the creak of his spinning wheel fill the silent space between them as the wind howled outside.

Maybe she wasn't alone in her thoughts. And maybe he wasn't alone in his loneliness. Cold and bitter as it was, she had to admit, it was nice to have the company.


	15. Not a Monster

He wasn't a monster. And he certainly wasn't as bad as he had seemed the first time he had appeared in her father's castle. She'd learned quickly that he liked to appear worse than he actually was, but the more time she spent with him, the more she'd come to realize that "beast", as her father had described him, was a far cry from what he actually was. She'd feared when she came that he would be strict, that she would hate him, but the more she'd roamed around his castle the more she came to realize that she was far freer here as his caretaker than she ever had been as a princess in her father's palace.

There, everything had been chosen for her, from the way that her bedroom looked, to what she wore, how she spent her time, even who she spent her time with. Now her time was her own. It was true she still slept in the dungeon but it had been ages since he actually locked her in, now she came and went as she pleased. There were rooms in his castle simply piled with dust and objects that were long forgotten. She learned in her early days to scavenge. An old blanket here a few dresses there. Add them to the wash, put them in her small room, and suddenly they were her own. In fact, this tiny space, his castle, it all began to feel like more of a home than her father's palace ever had. And as for her time…she found so many nooks and crannies that she could stow away in with a book, from the library he had given her, that she never found herself unhappy. She spent many days reading, loosing track of time, until he inevitably came to find her and made some obscure request. It was a habit he'd started in the winter months, that he hadn't let go of, secretly, she was happy for that.

She learned that he didn't really care if she cleaned or not. In fact, she'd come to believe it was more her company that he cared for than having an actual caretaker. He liked her. She knew he'd never actually say the words, but she knew he liked her. It was present in the things he did for her, like when he had let that man, Robin Hood, escape with his life. But it was more present in the things he didn't do. Like the way he said nothing when she grew tired of eating her meal alone in the kitchen and began to take it by the fireplace as he ate and how he didn't react when a few weeks later she began sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Baby steps, she learned, he needed her to take baby steps. He thought he was a monster, but she had seen true monsters, seen the way they really treated their maids and caretakers and she knew that they didn't turn a blind eye when they claimed household items for their own, spent endless hours draped across a chair in the library reading, or when they took their dinner with their masters. She was a princess after all and that had been her life. She had watched Gaston do it, her father, her grandmother, and even herself before she'd arrived here. She knew monsters and he wasn't one.

They existed in quiet happiness. Evenings were predictable. When he was finished with his meal he quietly pushed back from his plate and went to sit at his spinning wheel, she would do her chores between reading her book and joining him in the same room before they silently decided they were tired and went their separate ways.

Today she cleared away their dishes with only the squeak of the wheel as background noise. Then she went into the kitchen and set them in a trough to soak for a couple of hours. She would clean them before she went to sleep. Finally, she finished her evening chores by going outside to the line, where she was waiting for some clothes to dry. She had found a lovely pink dress in one of the upstairs rooms while she'd been cleaning today and she couldn't wait to add it to her extremely limited wardrobe. It would be perfect for when summer arrived. Part of her suspected that he magically created these gowns and left them lying about for her, so that she didn't need to ask him and he didn't need to give them. He'd made her independant in that way.

She stood in the sun and took a deep breath in through her nose, and rubbed her arms. It was warm enough that she didn't need to have a cloak when she came out any more but still cold enough that the wind numbed her skin. Other than the temperature, the weather today was perfect: sunny, gentle breeze, and on a couple of the plants a few small buds. It was almost spring. Had it been that long since she had arrived here? She almost couldn't wait until she could sit outside under one of these trees reading, maybe she would tend to one of the gardens, just to see if he would say anything.

Just then another gust picked up, making her shiver. She inspected the laundry, and finding it still damp, left it flapping in the wind as she went back into the castle and wrapped a shawl around her. Her eyes adjusted to the dark glum interior and she made her way back upstairs for the evening.

He still sat against the wall, at his spinning wheel. The chair neither acknowledged that he moved, had been placed back by the fire and her book set upon its cushion. It had become a welcoming sight. She made herself comfortable but found she couldn't focus enough to read tonight. The smell of the breeze still clung to her dress and the light of the sun made the castle dull. She glanced around her, wondering if he'd noticed her disinterest as he always seemed to be able to, but then her eyes fell on something else entirely.

The windows. She'd never noticed them before. Well, she knew they were there but never paid them much attention. They were always shut away behind the red drapes that blended seamlessly into the wall. Suddenly she felt a wash of familiar need sweep over her. She'd felt it often since they'd returned months ago from hunting Robin Hood. It was the need to make her prison her home. She'd succeeded in every room but this one and now that she felt it she knew exactly what she had to do. Exactly what she wanted: the sun.

She glanced at Rumpelstiltskin, still sitting at the spinning wheel, not paying her any attention, then rose suddenly and left. From one of the rooms she used for storage, she pulled out a long ladder that she had seen but never used, and boldly carried it into the room and over to the long window farthest from where he was working. She noticed him glance up at her as she set it up against the wall, and could have sworn that was a quizzical look on his face but he quickly looked away and went back to his own work.

She glanced up the ladder; it suddenly looked a lot higher than it had before she had fetched it. She sighed, and reminded herself that if she was here, she had already transcended a level of bravery she didn't think she had. Climbing up a ladder was a smaller act of bravery, surely she had that. So she placed her hand on one of the rungs, and when she certain it was sturdy she began her climb. Suddenly the comforting squeak of Rumpelstiltskin's wheel stood out to her in a very disconcerting way, and she found herself fearing that it might be a lose nail and she would fall to the ground before getting to try to see the sun.

She tried not to think about it, and focused only on her task. Once she was as high as she was going to get she reached out and tugged on the curtain. It didn't move. She tugged again and still it wouldn't budge. At her movement the ladder gave a the slightest of sudders and she was suddenly aware of how far out she was leaning and how far up she was. Her heart started to beat and she moved over to grip the sides of the ladder and steady herself, the only noise coming through the sound of her own heartbeat was the sound of that ridiculous wheel. She glanced over at him, seemingly unaffected by what was happening in his home. She glanced out at the curtain, but her heart started to race again. She glanced back at him and tried to calm herself down.

"Why do you spin so much?" As the words slipped out of her mouth she suddenly felt nervous for a completely different reason. He paused at her words. She hadn't actually meant to ask him the question but the squeaking had been making her anxious and she just wanted to world to stop while she collected herself. It just popped out. "Sorry," she muttered when he didn't answer. "It's just that you've spun more straw into gold than you could ever spend," she pointed out, trying to cover up her own anxiety.

"I like to watch the wheel, it helps me to forget," he commented solemnly, his voice low and serious. It was the tone he used when he was being honest with her.

Surprise filtered though her replacing her fear. She hadn't expected an answer, much less an honest one. She'd never actually seen him do business, but she'd heard him. Sometimes through the door to the next room she was cleaning, sometimes from behind the statue she was crouched behind as she read. Others had asked questions of his life, but he never revealed anything. She'd heard him change the subject, joke, and even make a veiled threat to the inquirer, but he'd never actually answered with honesty!

As she looked down at the man below her she felt something new for him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, no matter how she tried to name the emotion. Where, a moment ago, she had seen Rumpelstiltskin now sat a man, afraid of his past, trying to outrun something he would never be able to. He seemed smaller to her somehow, meeker, more human. She couldn't see his face but she could see the muscles in his back and shoulders tense. He looked scared, as though he was just as surprised as she was that he had answered her question. The sensible part of her brain told her she should get back to work, that she should leave him alone and finish taking the curtains down. But she suddenly felt as though she was drowning in curiosity. It had worked once before, why not try one more time?

"Forget what?" she asked timidly.

He paused again, and was perfectly silent for a moment. "Well, I guess it worked" then he let out a giggle and she couldn't help but laugh at the joke he'd made. What had she expected? It was the avoidance tactic she knew so well, and with it, the fleeting moment had passed. She shook her head and looked back at the curtain to her right. Now she really did need to get back to work. "What are you doing?" the voice shocked her. She assumed he'd go back to his business and she'd go back to hers, she didn't realize they were still "talking". A real conversation between them happened so rarely that it still surprised her each and every time. But he had answered her question, or one of them at least, it was only fair she answer his. Besides, there was no reason to hide what she was doing from him. He'd find out soon enough.

"Opening these!" she said, answering like it was obvious. Wasn't it? "It's almost spring. We should let some light in." He didn't respond to her, so she didn't push the answer. She wanted to see the light. She wanted to see the mountains and the valley below. She wanted to see spring when it came. She reached out and gave the curtain two more tugs, hard tugs, and still they wouldn't budge. He wasn't saying anything, but he was watching and she found she wanted him to say something. Was he laughing at her? At her inability to simply open the curtains? He could probably do this with a wave of his hand, after all. She sighed and glanced down at him. If he wasn't going to make fun of her then she would. "What did you do, nail them down?" she joked.

But instead of a laugh he only nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. Well, that made her feel a little bit better, obviously it wasn't her then. But nailed down or not, she wasn't giving up. She wanted to watch the sunset, and read in the light, and she wanted to live in a castle that wasn't so dreary. She tugged and heard the ripping of fabric. She tugged again and felt the entire cloth give way as she lost her balance and footing.

She didn't have time to scream, only time enough to register the lurch in her stomach, to think about how much it would hurt when her head hit the floor, and the blackness of unconsciousness that she would be left in. But when she opened her eyes, it wasn't darkness that met them. It was his face, confused, dazed, and doused in the glow of the setting sun. As the adrenaline kicked in and her heart began hammering against her chest, she realized that she wasn't injured and she hadn't hit the floor. He had caught her. He had kept her safe. Suddenly he became aware of it himself, glancing from the light pouring in the window and then at her, nestled against him. She'd touched him before, but he never really seemed to like it. To have him touching her, even in an act of instinct felt fine. Maybe better then fine. It felt...right.

She felt like she should do something, like she should say something as they stared at each other. Instead, she said the only two words she could think of. "Thank you" she breathed, and never were two words more true. Suddenly he dropped her feet back to the ground as if he just realized what had happened, what he'd been doing. "Thank you" she said again trying to sound like she hadn't just almost died. She could feel her legs shaking as she steadied herself.

"No matter" he held his hands up, awkwardly acknowledging the situation as "ok," and once again putting the safe amount of distance between them.

She glanced at the fallen curtain and the window, then the ladder, her mind telling her she was never going up there again. But she couldn't seem to get her brain and body to act together again, and what came out was: "I'll put the curtains back up." She made it sound like she was laughing, so she wouldn't be embarrassed about her fall. But he only paused again and looked back at her. For as much as he loved to laugh and tease everyone there was nothing funny about this situation, about what had nearly happened, to him. It was a line he wasn't going to cross, and she appreciated it.

"Ah," he paused, and glanced down at the floor. Did he feel it too? The need to say or do something more? "There's no need," he chose to say instead, "I'll get used to it." And with that he turned and went back to his work.

She couldn't help but smirk as she glanced back up at the ladder she shook her head. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he didn't want her on the ladder again. Maybe he didn't want her to risk injury either, there was no way to tell. She took the infernal thing down and back up to her small storage room, trying not to think about their brief encounter. When she returned her eyes widened at a marvelouse sight. The curtains were pulled back. All of them. The evening sunset was streaming in, and against the wall, now drenched in light sat her companion, nothing but the squeak of the spinning wheel in the dead space between them.

The feeling she'd had a moment ago returned. She wanted to hug him, to wrap her arms around him, to thank him a million times over, if that was what it took to get him to see how grateful she was. But she stopped herself just as soon as she got the feeling. It was silly, and, knowing his response to her touching and presence, he had probably reached maximum capacity for the day. She blinked away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, resisting the urge. Baby steps, she reminded herself. And instead, acting as if nothing had happened, she resumed her place, at the chair by the fire, only turning it slightly so that she could keep her book lit by the sun, and have him in her sight. She smiled and continued reading her book, happily.

He wasn't a monster. It was in the things he did, like catching her before she hit the ground, and answering her questions without a moment of hesitation. And it was in the things he didn't do. The way he didn't complain when she changed his home, or wasn't bothered when she undid what he had purposefully done. No, he most definitely wasn't a monster. But exactly what he was, she hadn't figured that out yet either.


	16. Beauty and the Beast

Someone had knocked on the door just after their dinner. It was ok. She'd wanted to clean the windows any way and with him constantly spinning at his wheel it made her task difficult as she didn't want to interrupt him. She could hear them as she cleaned, even up on that tall ladder. She couldn't help it, the poor man was pouring his heart out to, what she was sure, was a fairly non-receptive, Rumpelstiltskin. There was a girl, he had loved her since before he could remember, but she had been imprisoned in the top of a high tower with no doors or stairs by a witch of some kind. As she moved her ladder over to set after set of windows and the man continued to talk she couldn't help but shake her head at him.

He wouldn't care. She didn't even need to be in the same room to see his face or hear his voice to know that at the end of the day all he would care about was the deal he made, the players and details were inconsequential. Frankly, she found she couldn't blame him. No one ever seemed to take an interest in his life, to care for him! Why would he be interested? Why should he? The man, a prince she suspected, had finished the tale just as she was on the last window. That thought alone made her roll her eyes, five large windows that required a ladder to clean, it was no simple task, and yet she'd had the time. As she'd been finishing he had finally taken over the conversation, explaining something about a dove that would fly a potion to the girl that would make her hair long and strong enough to climb…but for a price.

"All magic comes with a price" she muttered at the same time he said it in the hallway. It was something he said too often for her not to have memorized. But she never did get to hear what the price was. Echoing footsteps told her they were going into his work area. She didn't know what he would make him pay, but from what she had seen of his deals, her own the one exception, they never exactly worked out in the other persons favor. In her opinion, the man was better off spending months trying to learn how to scale an unscaleable wall. Magic was never worth the price. She only needed to see him to know it was true. Magic, she was certain, had turned him into the dealmaker he was today. He was as much a victim of it as those he victimized.

Finished with her task she let the fresh light dance across her skin, clearer and brighter now that the windows had finally been clean. She took the dreadful ladder back to its hiding space and returned for the cleaning bucket and paused by what it had been placed beside.

She'd never asked questions about the object covered by the blanket. He'd never said it was part of the collection, never insisted it be cleaned, and she'd really never noticed it before. But he wasn't around now, and she had the cleaning bucket right here, she didn't need the ladder but if she stood on a chair she was certain she could at least give the object a good rub down.

Why not? It wouldn't take long, she could return to her book afterward. Gingerly she stepped forward and took the heavy cloth in her hand. She'd been living here too long and knew to expect the unexpected, so she was both surprised and relieved, and maybe a little embarrassed, when she took a peek first and saw that it was just a common place mirror. She pulled the cloth off of it and sighed as she glanced into the harmless object. It seemed normal, why he would cover it up was a complete mystery. As she made to reach down and pick up her cleaning rag she stopped, startled at the girl in front of her. Suddenly the thought dawned on her.

She hadn't seen a single mirror in this castle. Not even a shiny reflection that didn't distort the face horribly. This was the first time in months that she'd see a clear image of herself and she looked...different. It was hard to put her finger on, but it was more than just the clothes that she was wearing or the style of her hair. She looked herself up and down, searching for differences. Her back was slouched ever so slightly. And she supposed her head was tilted at an angle that was more confident and comfortable than when she had always been told to raise it with prestige. She supposed she looked more at ease...

That was it! Comfort! She looked comfortable, and relaxed. And she liked it. It was like staring back at her for the first time ever, was herself. She watched as a smile spread across her face. She'd never been vain, she knew she was a beautiful girl, but she'd never wanted people to see that. She didn't want to be a beautiful girl. Smart, funny, intelligent, regal, any of those would do if they could come first before her beauty. It hadn't bothered her that she didn't have anything to look at herself with here, in fact until this moment, she'd hardly noticed. But the transformation that had taken place when she wasn't looking, it was one no one in the courts would be proud of, but she was.

"Careful now, dearie!"

She jumped and placed a hand over her chest as her body reacted to his high pitched voice. She hadn't noticed him come back. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked surprised to find herself more curious than embarrassed.

He sobered, she had learned that quickly. There was a way he talked when he had to be the deal maker, and there was a way he talked when he was himself, with her. She wondered if anyone in the world had ever seen him as such. "Long enough," he answered head bowed and fingers tapping together. "Mirrors can be dangerous objects," he explained. "It's best to keep them covered if you must possess one."

She shook her head brow furrowing at his accusation, what was the purpose of having one if you couldn't use it. "But why? It's just a simple looking glass."

"That may be true. But when you look into a mirror, you should always keep in mind, that you never know what might be looking back." He came to stand behind her, and she could see their reflections so clearly in the mirror: they were Beauty and…the Beast. As soon as she thought the word she wanted it from her mind. She didn't see him that way, not any more, not for a long time. Was that what was so frightening to him, his appearance? Did he hate what he had become on the outside, too? She could relate to being judged by appearances, and hated it just as much. They had that much in common, the world saw them as one thing, and never even bothered to wonder who they could be underneath. He was not what the world thought he was. There was more to him.

She thought back to her cleaning today, she'd chosen another room to go through and had found something startling in it. Clothing. Children's clothing by how small it had been. She didn't think it had been his, he didn't appear to be sentimental over his own items. And she didn't think it had come from a deal, it was too old. And besides, he displayed those items with pride. Her mind had left her thinking that there was something else to him. There was a past she didn't know about, something he kept secret. But just as she had found dresses perfectly fit for her laying about and known they were just for her to find, she wondered if he hadn't wanted her to find those items too. She wondered if he was desperate enough for contact that he wanted her to ask him about it, but would never admit it.

As she glanced at their reflection she was suddenly aware of the hand at her waist. She didn't know when it had arrived, and her suspicion was he wasn't even aware that he was doing it. Or how close he was against her back, so close she could feel his breath against her ear. She was suddenly frightened, not of him. He didn't scare her, whatever power he had to make others fear him she was immune to. But instead she was frightened to move, too scared, that if she made any quick movements he would startle.

Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed thinking about the children's cloths she had found, then tenderly folded and placed into a drawer. She had her suspicions, but she didn't know how to approach it. He never seemed to worry about bluntness, in fact he liked to state things about others outright when making deals. Would the same thing work for him?

"Best to keep this old thing covered," with a flick of his wrist and a puff of smoke the thick cloth was back over it and their reflection had disappeared from her sight. It happened so quickly that she hadn't had time for it, the motion startled her and she found herself leaning back into him more than she had meant to. But he didn't pull away, in fact it was his hand that had kept her steady and not toppled them over.

She took a deep breath and swallowed, taking her eyes off the covered mirror and did her best to look at him, despite the strange angle, "What happened?" she asked quietly "to your family?" As soon as the words left her mouth she knew that she wasn't just curious about his past, she had to know it. Desperately. She saw his head tilt and knew that he was looking at her.

"What happened," his voice was low, serious...honest, "is I'm a difficult man to love." She felt her chest rise and fall with a happy sigh. It was inappropriate for the situation, but she was happy to know something about him. This was the second time he'd actually answered her questions, no hesitation, no jokes, it was just like he wore an invisible mask to the rest of the world, and little by little he was growing comfortable with taking it off in her presence.

She was going to ask him more but he suddenly pulled away from her, it happened so quickly she found herself having to balance herself so she wouldn't fall. He strode proudly back to the spinning wheel and took his seat like normal. She could ask him more, but she didn't want to prod any more. She picked up her book and took her usual seat by the fire, but her mind wouldn't focus on the words in her book. Instead, it filled with the thought of his words.

She'd guessed right. He'd had a family, a son, by the look of the clothing. Was that what he so desperately tried to forget at that wheel? There was more to it than that. There had to be. He had given her an answer, one that he truly believed. He wasn't an easy man to love, it wasn't a lie, but that didn't mean he thought it was impossible. It had taken them a few months, but she had come to like Rumpelstiltskin in the end.

The book fell from her hands at the realization and she dove to pick it up. She saw him glance her way at the bang and even thought she might have seen a small trace of a smirk, but he never missed a squeak in the wheel as she picked her book up and righted herself.

She liked him!

It had taken her months to realize that she was happy here but it wasn't just the place, or the freedom, she liked her captor. He was…kind. If only to her, but it was there. He had kindness. Magic aside, he was...good. She could feel it somewhere deep down. He wasn't an evil beast as she'd once believed, he might have been on the surface, but under all that there was a good man!

She swallowed her surprise and looked down at her book. He might not be an easy person to love, but it was possible. She didn't know what would come of this realization. Maybe nothing more than her own knowledge. But it made her smile as she curled her legs up in the chair and watched the fire burn. There they sat, Beauty and the Beast, two people suffering from the same problem in a different reflection.


	17. A Lonely Man

She wouldn't call him her friend. But to say they were master and slave was wrong too. She was finally beginning to let herself believe that one day they might be though. It had taken them months to get to where they were now, who knew where another month or two would take them. He liked to talk, and sometimes she thought he was just as surprised at that fact as she was. Of course he would not talk about anything personal, but then again she rarely volunteered her own personal information. She wanted to set something of an example, and didn't withhold it when he asked, but he seemed to have figured that out and almost had a sense of guilt because of it. The easy way around it was just not for him to ask. But it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to ask her what she was reading, and talk about the book. The conversations never lasted long but it had left her convinced that he probably had read all the books up in the library. She couldn't be sure when he'd had the time, but she was certain that he'd had more than one lifetime to read them in.

Sometimes when he was silent, after he finished eating or spinning, and he sat staring off into the fire, or out the window, she could see the years behind his gaze. She wasn't sure how old he was, but she was certain it was older than anyone she had ever met. Probably older than anyone her father had ever met.

When the clock chimed, she smiled and abandoned her latest task eagerly. Today she busy moving. Not officially of course, but when she'd finished cleaning the castle the previous week, really cleaning it, she had gotten a wonderful idea as she made the last bed. He hadn't objected to the way she joined him for dinner at night, or when she'd taken blankets for her dungeon, or when she took the dresses she found even if they were meant for her. And so she'd decided: this room would be hers now.

She wasn't going to ask, he wouldn't give permission, and she knew he wouldn't reprimand her for it. He had something of a soft spot for her, and she thought he might have given her a real room months ago if his pride hadn't gotten in the way. And so, slowly over the course of the day she was cleaning, folding, and moving everything she had collected from her dungeon and moving it into her new room. She was nearly done, everything she owned was in the room, she just had to arrange it now the way she liked it. But the task, it seemed would have to wait until after tea and whatever conversation they would find themselves having today.

She smirked at the thought and went down to the kitchen. She warmed the water and set the tea cups out on the tray, including the cup she had so lovingly named her "chipped cup". She felt a strong affection for it. She didn't know why, but something about its flaw was beautiful to her. Much to her disappointment, the chip was not something you could "hardly see," but he still used it when she put it on a tray, and the way he simply pretended it was nothing, still made her smile to this day. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Who would ever have guessed that she would have been happy here?

As she finished her preparations she took it up to the great room they used. He wasn't in the room yet, but she noticed that some of the straw he kept near his wheel had fallen to the ground. She left the tray on the corner of the table and quickly made herself busy: picking the stray pieces of straw off the ground, noting that he was out of it, straightening the already straighten artifacts, taking a glance out the window. When she heard the tinkling of china, she glanced over her shoulder she realized that he had come into the room, quietly, as always. She was so used to it that she didn't startle any more when she was certain she was alone only to find the next minute she wasn't. He stared at her as she put aside her busyness and came back over to the table.

He had taken the chipped cup again, and she smirked as if it was her own private joke. She would have gotten her own tea ready but found she really wasn't thirsty. That was alright, it wasn't a requirement, and frankly it wasn't why she came to tea any more. She suspected he didn't come just for a drink any more either. He made a move to go to his side of the table, normally she sat at the hearth or on her side, but she didn't want to be that far away today. She was feeling oddly bold and told herself that there was no need to have a table if she had nothing to place on it. Instead she followed him, he took notice, as always, glancing back at her over his shoulder, curious about why she was following him. Then, after finding a comfortable spot on the table, she jumped up to sit down. At the creak he spun around. He let out a small "oh!" and was taken back by the sight of her crossing the invisible divide between her side and his side, even if only in the slightest. She had surprised him, she doubted that anyone had ever surprised him in his life. She'd known him long enough to know that he could see the future, but he couldn't see her sitting on his table. The future wasn't always what you expected. This strange relationship they had developed was proof of that.

She smirked, crossed her ankles and let her legs swing back and forth, still feeling bold. It must have been the after effect of claiming one of the rooms for herself. She didn't want to talk about the new book she was reading, he always seemed to know the days that she spent in the library, and she didn't want to talk about what he wanted for dinner, he would simply say he was fine with whatever she wanted. For someone so wrapped up in his own world, it seemed like a lot of it depended on her. He was waiting for her to choose the topic of conversation. So what did she wan to talk about?

For some reason that persistent thought that had continually fought its way back to the surface of her mind popped into her mind again. What was he trying so hard to forget, to outrun, to outlive. What had happened to his family that had calloused his heart in the first place? She watched him. She watched him watching her, waiting for her to tell him what they were going to say to each other this afternoon. She knew what she wanted to talk about, but she had to think carefully about how to approach it.

"Why did you want me here?" she asked. She'd wanted to know the answer since they had left her father's castle, she'd wanted to know even more after he had given her the library, and, now that they were to a place where they found each other's company pleasant, it grated at her mind. At first she had settled with the idea that he really did need a caretaker, which he did, but the more she was here the more she thought that it was just an excuse.

It was a serious question, but in typical fashion he wrinkled his nose, heightened his voice, and hid his face behind the cup. "Place was filthy" he joked, a tell tale sign that he didn't want to continue this line of questioning. She should choose a different topic. They should stick to what they knew. But after looking him over she decided on a different method of approach. He didn't have to answer questions, he could just listen.

"I think you were lonely," she stated, placing her observations out in the open. He lowered the cup and looked at her with a small twinge of fear in his eyes. "I mean any man would be lonely" she covered tried to make it less an observation and more of an educated guess. Just as quickly as the fear had come it had gone, and yet something was different about how he was looking at her, even how he was moving. As he lowered the tea cup she realized what it was. His mask was gone. How astounding! For the first time since she'd gotten here, he was just himself. It took her breath away.

"I'm not a man," he whispered, his voice at a normal level as he shuffled awkwardly before unexpectedly leaning up against the table next to her. Not close enough to touch, but it was closer than he had ever purposefully volunteered in the past. His voice sounded so sad. He stared down at the tea cup in his hands, and her heart broke for the person that hid behind that mask, the one sitting beside her now. It dawned on her that he hadn't denied her allegations that he was lonely, and of all the things she'd felt for him over the last few months sympathy and sadness hadn't been among them, until now.

She felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, like she would comfort any friend. But she fought that instinct. She feared it would only bring him back to his senses and he would move away. But she did desperately want to make him feel better. Something inside of her knew that no matter what creature he was now, he was capable of being a man. She'd seen glimpses of it, just like she was seeing now. No monster she had ever met stared into their chipped tea cups like they were endless reflections of another life.

"So I've had, um, a couple of months, to look around, you know" she said going after a new but similar curiosity, one they had begun not long ago but never finished. "And, uh, upstairs, there's, uh, clothing," she informed him nervously, hoping this method might get him to talk to her, "small, as if for a child?" she let it be a question but she'd often traced her hands over the clothes, wondering about their origins, she was certain they could have been for nothing else. And ever since he had let slip to her that he had a family, she knew they were more important than just old rags stored in a dark room.

She had hoped he'd be prompted to say something, but still he sat, taking in her voice and staring straight ahead, saying nothing. It was awfully hard to have a conversation with a person when they refused to talk, but she could be just as stubborn as he was. He was the only one she'd seen in months, and despite what she calmly told herself, that his past didn't matter, she desperately wanted to know about it. "Was it yours?" she prodded "or was there a son?"

He opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. The mix of fear and even a little shock that she had guessed right once again crossed his face. She'd never seen that combination before. She expected him to yell, for a brief moment, like he had when she had first moved in, maybe chastise her for snooping, at best she expected him to turn and walk away. But after a pause he turned and looked at her, gentle as she knew him to be.

"There was," he admitted with a painful voice, solemnly confirming her suspicions, looking her over before turning away again like he couldn't face her as he forced the words out, "there was a son. I lost him, as I did his mother." Her breath caught in her throat. Finally she had an answer! In fact, compared to what he usually offered her this was a story, a long novel. And a sad tale it was.

"Um," she stuttered, she hadn't been expecting an answer that would give her that much information, she wasn't prepared for it, or the hurt it seemed to bring him. "I'm sorry."

To lose a wife and a child was terrible. She'd found the child's clothes but never had she considered that he had a wife. She was not oblivious to the fact that while he spoke of the boy with a gentle voice he had bit the syllables off the words "his mother" like they left a bad taste in his mouth. And the fact that he was willing to claim a son, but not "a wife" said more to her than anything else. The woman was nameless, placed so far away from him he was only going to refer to her through the boy. The amount of resentment in his voice told her that it would be a story for another time, maybe when they knew each other better, when he trusted her more. For now the nameless boy was safer ground. But that couldn't stop the million questions that jumped into her mind. Had they been happy? Had they been in love like the couples in her books? How had he lost them? But the one that took root in her head came from the comment he had made earlier. What had made him difficult to love before? And what had he been before?

She bit her lip and tossed the question around in her head, wondering if she should stop and let it go or if she should just ask it and see what happened. He'd been compliant so far, who knew when they would talk again like this again. "So you were a man once," she couldn't help but smile, he must have been to have a son, "an ordinary man?" she pointed out, happily, finding the one bright spot in his story. But she wanted to hear him say it. She couldn't tell why she felt it was important to her, but she wanted to hear him say the words.

However, he said nothing. Just went back to looking everywhere but at her.

She sighed, feeling defeat, but not willing to give into it just yet. "If I'm never going to know another person in my whole life, can't I at least know you?" she asked boldly, unsure of what he would think of the proposal. He smiled, but the look on his face made her heart fall, his mask was on again. Their time was up. No doubt in a few moments he would get back to his business, she'd take the tea away and it would all be forgotten. She wouldn't mind, she didn't want to think that her questions had caused him any kind of pain.

"Perhaps" his voice had gone up as he rose and set the cup aside "perhaps you just want to learn the monsters weaknesses. Na! Na! Nanana!" he shook his fingers at her, teasing. He was back to being distrustful, back to his old self, but she could see that it was just a boundary he kept to protect himself. It had nothing to do with her or whatever their relationship was or might be. And there was that word again, "monster" that was so far from the truth. She was tired of others seeing him that way, but she knew that nothing would change as long as he believed it. She knew it as she watched his memories torture him. And she wouldn't stand to watch him inflict that kind of pain on himself. She couldn't stand it.

"You're not a monster" she corrected gently. He was taken aback by her assumption, visibly surprised and nervous. But she couldn't take it back "You think your uglier than you are that's why you cover all the mirrors up isn't it?" She raised her eye brows thinking back on the day she'd uncovered the one in the corner. She was hoping to see that same spark that she had seen moments ago when she had guessed right about his son. She wanted him to respond.

Unfortunately she would never know if her guess was right this time, because someone chosen to come pound on his door at the moment. She couldn't imagine what terrors were in his past, but she knew that it wouldn't go away with just one conversation. Still, she didn't want him to fear her, and worry that she would ever betray him. She knew, even if offered the world, she would never repeat what he had told her. She couldn't betray his trust like that. She was certain that whatever had led him to be in this state, whatever act of desperation had caused it, hadn't destroyed all of the man he once was. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been so lonely.


	18. Meeting in the Middle

It wasn't unheard of, people came to him seeking help all the time. He glanced over at the door, then back at her. It was odd. Usually he stormed right out to see who had come, and to sort out a deal of some kind. It was something that he loved to do, and always put him in a pleasant mood. But this time he didn't drop everything, he didn't even look excited. He looked unhappy, maybe even angry at the interruption. He needed a moment to collect himself, even took a deep breath before nodding and excusing himself, almost politely.

It happened all the time, but she just wished it hadn't happened at that particular moment. They had finally been getting somewhere, she wanted to get somewhere farther. She wanted to know more, plain and simple. Once he was out of the room, she sighed and hopped off the table, feeling somehow different. She felt heavier, burdened, but not in a bad way, it almost felt good. She couldn't quite find the right words to describe the feeling. She walked around to the far side of the room, looking for something to do as she tried to clear her head. She settled for looking out the window and down into the valley it overlooked, stalling. She didn't know how long he was going to be. Sometimes these deals took only minutes, like her own, others took longer. There was no telling if he'd be back. Probably she should just collect the tea and look forward to talking to him tonight after dinner.

But before she could take a step toward the tray, the door behind her opened and he strode back in. She felt an unexpected surge of excitement as he joined her again. Did he know how much she wanted to continue their discussion? She slowly moved toward him feeling like they were dancing around each other awkwardly, wondering where to begin. Just like they had months ago. Suddenly she was wondering how he would treat her now that she knew part of his past. Different? Like he feared her? Or would he find he liked having someone to confide in? "Who was that?" she questioned innocently enough. Honestly, she didn't know if he would tell her. She'd never bothered to ask him before. And he'd never volunteered the information. But she figured that how he reacted to her would tell her if his feelings toward her had changed with the exchange of secrets.

"Just an old woman selling flowers," he answered gallantly. Suddenly he went into a small princely bow and presented her with a long stemmed rose. "Here," her breath stopped as she smiled and took in the unexpected gift. He had never really given her anything before, not directly at least, and certainly not just because he could. The pillow was for his work, or so he claimed. And the library had been a gift but it was a gift hidden behind a chore. And she could never actually prove that he had given her the dress that she wore now or any of the others! It was like he was actually afraid to give her anything out of kindness. But this! This was brand new. "If you'll have it?" he asked. She smiled as she plucked it from his fingers, flattered at the thought. As if she could do anything but accept it!

"Why, thank you," she muttered, taking her skirt in one hand and going into a polite curtsy, like the princess that she really was. He responded with a flourishing bow, participating in her joy. She felt heat suddenly race into her cheeks and let out a giggle. She giggled! She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed like that, or smiled as brightly as she was now. And she hadn't meant for it to look or sound so juvenile but she felt like she just couldn't control it. She turned, feeling only slightly embarrassed by her act, giving only a glance back to see him actually smiling at her. Not giggling, not mocking, but really smiling at her. He was happy. And between that and the rose he had given her, how could she resist the urge to giggle and smile with him?

"You had a life Belle" she glanced at him over her shoulder, finally getting her emotions in check and containing her smile. From the small case she kept by the fire she pulled out a pair of scissors and continued to listen "before all this." He was drawing a circle in the air with his hands, it made him look nervous, but it didn't take a genius to know what he was referring to. "Friends, family," he continued to ramble on as she went to the cabinet "what made you choose to come here with me?"

She took the question in, almost happy that he had asked it, happy that he had an interest in her, finally. Happy he was talking with her, not at her, not about her, and not about meaningless things of little consequence. But actually talking with her. It didn't hurt that she knew the answer to the question. She'd thought about it a lot in the beginning, and at that point its answer was what had told her it would all be worth it. She glanced back at him taking his seat at the table, waiting for her answer with genuine interest, and came to a startling conclusion: it had been worth it. And then some.

"Heroism" she answered him truthfully. "Sacrifice" she added as she opened the cabinet and reached for the small vase she liked to put flowers in to decorate her room "you know, there aren't a lot of opportunities for women in this land to show what they can do. To see the world, to be heroes" she added closing the doors and taking her prize back to the table "so when you arrived, that was my chance.

"I always wanted to be brave" she explained snipping off the end of the rose and dropping it into the vase "I figured do the brave thing and bravery would follow," she shrugged her shoulders, explaining like it was nothing. She'd gone over this so many times in her head she didn't need to even think about it. It never dawned on her that she would probably never have told her father or Gaston the real reason she had come, her dreams were far too private for them, and they would be confused and maybe even insulted, that she had gone for herself just as much as she had gone for them and the village.

"And is it everything you hoped?"

"Well, ah," she smiled thinking of her newfound revelation as she set the rose in the middle of their table and sat on the spot she had earlier. She'd already told him something that she wouldn't have told her family, but was she ready to tell her captor she might have actually been happy with him? Happier, even? "I did want to see the world," she said resorting to a strategy of avoidance that he had perfected. "That part didn't really work out," she remarked. And before she could think about the words coming from her mouth, she nodded "but I did get to save my village." It surprised her, she hadn't known that it really had been that important to her until she'd told him. Maybe she had achieved a state of bravery after all.

He tapped his fingers together nervously, "and what about your betrothed?"

She rolled her eyes, she couldn't help herself from doing it. It was a natural reflex, one that she had practiced even in her father's castle when the man wasn't around. "It was an arranged marriage," she admitted with a shake of the head, not feeling one ounce of shame or regret at telling him. "Honestly, I never really cared much for Gaston." He was smiling again, from what she couldn't be sure. It wasn't his genuine smile, but there was definitely something that he was amused with. But still Gaston had never made her quite as happy as that smile. And it certainly never produced the strange flutter in her belly. She smirked, thinking of all the ways Gaston had fallen short in her eyes.

"To me love is…" what was it? She'd read a million books on the subject. She knew what it wasn't, but what was it? "Love is layered, love is" she searched her mind for the right words "a mystery to be uncovered." In all the words that she would think of to describe Gaston 'layered' and 'mysterious' was nowhere on that list. Perhaps that was she had always dreaded their marriage, she would never have been able to love him. Care for him? Sure. But love him? Truly? Never. "I could never truly give my heart to someone as superficial as he." And she'd never have to now. In this way he had saved her, he had provided the out, the back door, the escape route. It hadn't been at the forefront of her mind, but she could see it now. He was running from his past, she was running from her future, no wonder they'd met in the middle.

His smile disappeared, and he shook his head ever so slightly. What had upset him so suddenly she didn't know. But she panicked. She didn't want him to stop now and walk away, she wanted him to talk to her, to keep talking to her. She wanted to know everything that was filtering through his mind. She shook her head and tried to think of something completely different to talk about, something new that would change the subject and bring him back to her.

"But, um, you were going to tell me about your son," he wasn't actually, but that was the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll tell you what," he said without missing a beat, "I'll make you a deal" her heart fell at the words. Their borrowed time was over and he was back to his old self and making deals just like always. Whether this one would be beneficial or not she didn't know, but so far, her experience with his deals was that they tended to work out in her favor. So she played along and raised her eyebrows in anticipation of what he was thinking. "Go to town and fetch me some straw. When you return, I'll share my tale."

She processed the words he was saying slowly, then finally realized that he was asking her to do something that he'd never asked before. It was one of the tasks he had assigned her at the very beginning, but she'd never actually done it. He'd always gotten straw on his own, he'd never needed her to get it for him. And he had never asked her to leave the castle walls, not without him. Was he finally trusting her more? "But, town!" He nodded "You trust me to come back?!"

"Oh Belle," he shook his head "I expect I'll never see you again" But that meant…he was releasing her. The words were a complete surprise to her, she hadn't been expecting that. Shell shocked, she hopped off the table with a little bit less enthusiasm than before, feeling almost hurt. She placed her hand over her stomach as she turned away from him. Without another word she walked right into her dungeon, forgetting that she had just moved all of her belongings out of the space. Now she sat on her bed hunched over, cowering in her tiny cell. Freedom.

He'd freed her, sent her away, never to be seen again. She should be happy. She should feel like the luckiest person in the world. He'd saved her again, just as he had with her previous life with Gaston. She should want to take it and run and never turn back. No one would ever know that she was free, she could wander into the village and create a brand new life for herself, no one would come looking for her.

So then, why did she feel like crying? Why did she have this feeling in the pit of her stomach? Coming with him was supposed to be the bravest thing that she'd ever done, so why did leaving him terrify her? Was this payback? Had she pushed too hard? Had she dug around in his past so much that he never wanted to see her again? It was so sudden. Everything had been going great. More than great, she had thought. Why he wanted her to leave…her thoughts stopped there and she dropped her head into her hands. This made no sense.

She was feeling like she might actually cry when a new thought dawned on her: why was she letting this torture her so much? He'd freed her, given her permission to go, to see the world, to be the hero she wanted to be. She felt a smile tug at her lip, he probably thought that he was doing her a favor, and in a way, he was. She rose, surprised that her legs were shaking under her.

She took a glance around the now bare room that had been her own haven ever since arriving, but the thought of never seeing it again brought tears to her eyes. So she turned around and practically ran up the stairs. The tea set was just where she had left it, but Rumpelstiltskin was nowhere in sight. He hadn't even wanted to say good-bye? She glanced over at his spinning wheel, and picked up one of the empty baskets. She really didn't know why. Part of her said that he had given her a task to do and it was habit. But another part of her simply said that if she was going to do as he suggested, leave on an errand and never return, she might as well make it look good. The castle was silent as she collected her traveling cloak from the room she'd never used.

Nothing got in her way as she made her way to the door. And no one stopped her as she shut the front door behind her. The walk to the gate at the end of the property seemed to take forever, but as she pushed open the tall wooden door she couldn't help but look back on the castle. A figure in the window to her library moved out of sight quickly and she turned away to look at the road laid out before her. It was an adventure, it was exciting, and she was starting something new.

It was freedom!

It felt wrong.


	19. Changing Direction

The road ahead of her was straight as could be. But to her it seemed to twist and turn unpredictably. Her mind seemed to be battling with itself. On the one hand, her logical side told her to run. To leave this place and get as far away as she could. But on the other hand, a side of her that she hadn't even known was alive until she went with him told her that she was making a mistake. That she should return, or else she would regret it her entire life. The thoughts swirled around in her mind leaving her in a state of limbo. Her future was uncertain, continue on the road she walked now or go back? Her decision changed every few seconds, and it kept her from running and from walking peacefully. Her pace was quickened, but not certain, and that's when she heard the sound of a horse behind her. She turned. Half expecting it to be him coming after her. But it wasn't, and her face fell, disappointed.

It was a caravan. Two guards rode ahead on black horses while four more black horses pulled a black carriage as well. And there in the back two more guards dressed in black riding black horses. She had no idea who this was, but obviously it was someone important. Not to mention someone who liked black. They didn't slow down as they approached so she quickly moved off to the side of the road to wait for them to pass so she could continue on to…where ever her feet took her, she supposed.

Suddenly the carriage stopped as it pulled up beside her. And the door opened to a wide eyed woman, dressed in all black, the only color on her was the bit of red in her hair and the paleness of her skin. "Did my carriage splash you?" she asked, her eye brows raised, expecting an answer.

"Oh," the woman's eyes bothered her, it was like she had met her before but she couldn't even begin to guess where. So she avoided them, and glanced down at her cloak, which was just as spotless as it had been when she left. "Oh, no!" she tried to smile, tried to be pleasant "I'm fine." The strange woman smiled but it reminded her of the way a hawk might smile at a mouse it was planning on having for dinner. She didn't trust the woman. So with a final smile and a small curtsy she walked on.

"You know I'm tired of riding," she looked back at the woman, fearing the next words that would come out of her mouth. "Let me stretch my legs and walk with you for a spell." She opened her mouth to say something but she found she had no words. She didn't particularly want company. But she supposed there was no harm. She'd known women like this and they didn't go through the forest with a carriage and escorts to walk for long periods of time. She waited as the woman climbed down and held her hand up to the carriage driver. After being offered an umbrella to keep the misty rain at bay they walked to the front of the caravan and led the way.

They traveled slower than she had been before, but in silence. That worked for her. She didn't know what exactly it was but she didn't care for the woman, and she rarely had that feeling in her life. "You carry very little," the woman suddenly observed.

She shook her head, mourning the silence left behind. "Don't want to be slowed down," she commented using as few words as possible and hoping that she would get the idea that she just wanted to be left alone. She picked up her pace, the woman falling behind slightly.

"Oh, you're running from someone," the woman chuckled to herself, and she glanced back at her trying to hide the fact that her heart had suddenly sped up. She wasn't running. She couldn't run when there was no one to chase after her. Besides she had no idea what she was doing, so it couldn't be running. "The question is master or lover," she fought the urge to roll her eyes. The woman was making her uncomfortable, talking to her like she had known her much longer than she actually had. No, not talking, gossiping. She turned away from her. She wasn't interested in pursuing this discussion. She preferred to keep her secrets close to her. If the woman wasn't here she would have smiled, was this what he had felt like when she asked him questions? "Oh," the woman piqued "master _and _lover," this time she did roll her eyes.

The woman knew nothing. She may not know what she and Rumpelstiltskin were but he was not her master, at least not any more. And lovers! The idea was preposterous! She felt something for him, but it wasn't that…was it? She did enjoy talking to him. She liked being in the same room with him, sharing their meals, even in silence. He'd told her more than she believed he'd ever told anyone, and she felt…she wasn't sure what she felt. Could it be more than like? Could it be something more than just comfort and friendship pulling her back to him? Could it have been more than the desire to be brave that pulled her to him in the first place?

She stopped dead. She didn't want to think about this right now, and if the woman couldn't understand that then she didn't need to speak with her. "I might take a rest," she told her pleasantly as possible "you," she gestured to the road before them "you go on ahead."

The woman watched her and before she could pull away from her she reached out and put an unwelcome arm around her. "So if I'm right," she forced her to turn and continue to walk down the road, "you love your employer, but your leaving him."

Love was such a spectacular word. Was that what she felt for him? It was so different so unique from every other feeling that she'd ever felt before. She'd never felt nearly as excited to see Gaston as she'd felt when she saw Rumpelstiltskin. And though she loved her father it wasn't the same feeling. Hearing him tell her a story, even if it was only a couple of sentences was better than any book that she had ever read. The room he was in was the safest place in the world. The rose he offered to her had been the best gift she'd ever received in her life, second only to the library that he'd given her. "I might love him," she admitted with a swallow, surprised that the words had come out of her mouth. Love was a spectacular word, but the feeling when she stood close to him, was spectacular. She smiled at the thought, she had no problem giving love. She had done it her entire life. Was it really so outlandish to believe that she could love him and he could love her back.

Her mind paused at an unpleasant realization. "I mean I could except…" she fought to find the words. He wouldn't love her back. That required trust, something that had been stolen from him a long time ago. He didn't have it to give. And though she had seen a change in him since she'd first arrived she knew that the change was contained to her alone. He was still the same man to the entire world. It appeared that he had left an impression on her, but she doubted that she could make one that deep on him. His heart, it was capable of love, she fully believed that, but she wasn't sure he did. There was something else planted in it, and she didn't think she was strong enough to wipe it out. "Something evil has taken root in him," she said finally. It was in that moment that she realized that she hadn't thought of this for the first time today. She'd had these thoughts before. It was just the first time someone had given her the word for what she felt.

She did love him.

"Sounds like a curse to me," the woman said with a smile. She looked at the woman with interest. A curse? She'd never gotten him to tell her how he had come to be in his state after being human. She'd considered that he was cursed but not in the sense she was speaking of. She meant a spell gone wrong. Could it have been a curse? A real curse? What could be done about it then? She had no magical abilities. There was no way for her to help him, not that he would take it even if she offered. As if sensing her thoughts the woman informed her "and all curses can be broken," she eyed her suspiciously, eager to hear the answer. If there was anything she could do to free him of his curse she'd do it. She'd go anywhere for him, do anything. Her thoughts caught her off guard. To think she didn't even know how she felt for him before the carriage pulled up. "A kiss born of true love would do it," she stilled, raising her eye brows in shock. If the woman wasn't pulling her along she would have stopped walking.

A kiss?! No, not just any kiss. True love's kiss. She was only ready to admit a few moments ago that she loved him, was it more than that? True love, the most powerful magic in the world. Yes, she'd heard him say that once or twice. Was the connection between them that powerful? She didn't even need to think, she knew the answer. Of course it was that strong. How else would a caretaker like her have been able to effect him in the way that she had over the last few months? How could she feel so strongly for him and believe in him after all she'd seen him do? The realization hit her like a wave beating a rock on the shore, wearing her thin until she knew exactly what had happened between them. She didn't just like him, she loved him, and it wasn't just any kind of love, it was true love. She was in love with Rumpelstiltskin! The awkwardness they's shared, the connection, his softened heart, she had sensed that the answer was simple and she was right! All this time, they hadn't just been sharing the same space...they'd been falling in love with one another. She knew that now, but did he? Is that why he sent her away? Could her presence have scared him that much?

"Ah, child no!" she woman laughed continuing to pull her along. "I would never suggest a young woman to kiss a man who held her captive," she said, misunderstanding her silence and shock. "What kind of message is that?" she heard her mutter to herself.

"Right," she muttered agreeing with her. It was absurd. So why was she thinking about actually doing it? What would it be like to actually kiss him? To be that close to him? To cure the man of the monster within? She didn't even know how he felt about her.

"Besides if he loves you," the woman continued in her gossip tone "he would have let you go," she stared ahead of her, thinking of their last encounter "and if he doesn't love you well then, the kiss won't even work," she said with certainty.

"But" so many thoughts were running around in her head, she couldn't keep up with them and she just needed to stop for a moment "but he did let me go," she said pulling away and looking at the woman. Was that all? Was that the reason he'd let her go? Not for payback or because he was upset with her but out of guilt? Because he loved her? Because he wanted her to come back to him not as a slave or captive, but as a free woman?

"Yes, but no kiss happened," of course not she'd been too dazed and shocked at the time to kiss him. She hadn't even known she'd loved him. Leaving was a mistake. She had to go back to him. She had to see him, if she didn't, she just knew that she would spend the rest of her life wondering…wondering if someone who made her feel the way that he did would ever show up. Finding another man wasn't even an acceptable possiblity in her mind any more. It was him. She knew it was. People waited lifetimes for true love, she couldn't give it up.

"And a kiss" she asked, desperately needing to know "a kiss is enough?" it seemed too simple, "he'd be a man again?"

The woman leaned forward with a smile, "an ordinary man," she whispered. "True loves kiss," she said slowly "will break any curse." It was the answer to everything. She smiled, she could do this. She could rescue him. As the thoughts worked their way into her head and her heart, she suddenly found herself wondering how she had missed the simple fact of love? The only hero she wanted to be was his.

From the side one of the men in black came up to the woman. "Well," she said suddenly perky, "it seems I need to be on my way. Enjoy your journey, where ever it may take you." She turned back to her carriage the guard escorting her the entire way. Before she got in she turned back to her "I do hope we'll see each other again someday," she said with that same greasy smile. But she couldn't focus on that now, not after what she had told her, not with the feelings boiling inside her.

The carriage passed her by leaving her alone on the long road. Only now the road no longer looked unpredictable. She knew where it would lead her. It would take her back to him. She smiled and glanced down at the basket she had forgotten about in her hand. Not yet, first she had an errand to make.


	20. True Love's Kiss

After she'd gathered the straw as he'd requested she'd had to keep herself from running back to the castle. She couldn't help the beaming smile she felt on her face. She had a secret and it made her feel more alive than she'd ever felt at her father's palace. Oh, she had felt it before, here with him, only now she knew why. She loved him, and she was nearly certain that he loved her too. Everything that the woman on the road had said made complete sense to her and it was this feeling that made going to the castle seem to take three times as long as it should have.

It was dark when she returned. She looked on the beloved castle with a sigh of relief as she opened the door at the outer wall. The last time she'd left she really hadn't known if she would ever see it again. When she had first arrived, it had seemed like a dark prison. But what a long time ago that had been! Now the very sight of it sent a strange warmth into her belly and the thought of the clean friendly rooms she'd created gave her a small sense of pride. It was different indeed. It was home now. Her home. Their home?

She was distracted by a sudden movement in the upper tower, in her library. Something was in the window, but had quickly moved away. She didn't think it was possible but her smile grew. Had he been in her library? Had he been sulking over her departure, just like she had been? On the journey back she'd been adding up all of the evidence in her favor. Everything that she had noticed that might suggest that the woman on the road was right, and that he loved her. As she began to walk toward the entrance she silently added this to that list.

She opened the front door with newfound happiness and paused in the entryway, she was home. She stopped at the table to remove her cloak, knowing that the fire in their room would be ablaze and threaten to smoke her out of it if she didn't. Then she gathered the basket of straw and draped the cloth over her arm.

She was about to walk into their room when she found herself coming to an abrupt halt. Her emotions suddenly seemed overwhelming. She was too anxious, and excited, and scared, and happy, and feeling about a million other sensations. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to walk in there and…? The thought caused her to blush. How was she going to do this? Could she? She'd had her own kisses stolen from Gaston but she'd never been the one to actually initiate anything! How did a person start something as intimate as a kiss? Then again that was the answer, wasn't it?

Everything else came easily to them: normally, naturally, and, yes, even intimately. And it felt right each and every time, even if they hadn't been trying to make it so. She loved him. That had happened so instinctively she hadn't even noticed it. She was back now. She was free. Nothing could go wrong so long as the two of them were together. She had to hope that this would too. Maybe it wouldn't happen tonight. There was no reason it had to. She'd walk in that door, and instead of planning for it, she'd see where life took them. No matter where or when it happened, she was certain, it would be the perfect time. There would be nothing stolen about that kiss.

With a deep breath she hitched the basket of hay up a little higher and pushed the door open. Suddenly she felt aware of how awkwardly she walked. How eager she must seem. Would he notice? Her walk? Her blush? Her unrestrained smile? Had he been picking up on the little things like this since the beginning? Or was it all in her head?

He was looking over at her. She was trying not to notice the way his eyes seemed drawn to her. She was trying, but she wasn't successful. How had she gone this long without understanding what that strange feeling in the pit of her stomach was? "Oh, good! You're back already," he said like he always expected she would return. Did he? Did he know that she loved him? Did he know that he did? Did he? She placed her cloak over the back of his chair. "Good thing," he said turning back to his spinning wheel, "I'm, uh, I'm nearly out of straw."

Her newfound feelings didn't eliminate her ability to sense what he was feeling, to figure out what he was thinking, just by the look on his face. But it did explain it. And she was happy to see the look that told her that his calm demeanor was a lie. He was probably just as excited as she was, and turning back to his spinning wheel, was merely an attempt to distract himself so that he wouldn't concentrate on her too much. It was as if he couldn't allow himself to feel excited that she was back. Normally knowing the truth would have been enough for her, but she wanted him to know it as well, wanted him to feel it.

"Mmm," she set the straw down in its proper place, and addressed her suspicions, "Come on, you're happy I'm back!" she exclaimed, daring to tease the man before her. She seemed to hold her breath, she wanted to hear him say the words, and waiting on them was agonizing. Being near him felt strange. That nervous fluttering in her stomach seemed to increase as she stood before him, waiting. But this little bubble they seemed to be in, the same one that made her feel eerily nervous, also made her feel warm and safe. Then again maybe it was simply because she knew the answer to her unaddressed question.

He leaned forward suddenly. "I am not unhappy," he admitted. He couldn't bring himself to say the words, but the ones he had used were as good as a confession. It was as if he was trying to joke, trying to put up an invisible wall he kept his heart behind, but it was a weak attempt. And walking through that barrier was only too easy for her, especially when she considered what exactly those words meant. He was happy she'd come back to him. She walked around the spinning wheel a blush forming on her cheeks. Her nerves couldn't decide if they should reduce or increase. Could he see that? Could he see how she reacted to him? Did he ever think about why that happened?

She took a swallow and stepped up behind him resting her hands on his shoulders unwilling to let him go back to his spinning. "And, uh, you promised me a story," she pointed out suddenly realizing that he no longer flinched at her touch or shrunk away from her like he had when she first arrived.

"Did I?!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking nervously. She hadn't forgotten their deal. She knew that he hadn't either but rather was hoping that she had, or hoping that she would see he was busy and wouldn't bring it up. She wasn't willing to let him get away that easily though. She had told him her secret thoughts and she wanted to know his. What had happened to his family? His wife? His son? Who had been in his life since then?

She gave a noise of confirmation and reached down boldly to pluck the string out of his hand and rest it neatly over the spool of the wheel. Then made herself comfortable on the wheel next to him. He observed her, almost like he was afraid of her and startled by her actions. But it was endearing, had he ever been afraid of a deal that he had made before? Had anyone ever taken this much interest in him? Taken this much control over a situation? Or over his life? She doubted it. She dared to make another move, cross another barrier, and rested her hand on his leg. She meant it to comfort him, to let him know that even if the story was tragic, as she suspected it was, it couldn't scare her away. It couldn't make her see him any different, and she would be there for whatever he needed. Her heart fluttered in her chest. How had it taken her this long to realize she loved him? Hadn't she seen how wholly devoted to him she was already? "Tell me about your son," she encouraged gently.

"Ah," he flexed his fingers nervously like he was trying to figure out how to put as much distance between them as he could, but couldn't bring himself to move away from her. The distance he sought wasn't physical. "Well," the idea of telling this story scared him, she could see that, but she wanted him to tell her. She wanted him to know that he could tell her anything, his secrets would be safe with her. "I lost him," he said finally repeating the words he had earlier, his smile pained and his eyes tortured with whatever memory lay behind them. It was tragic, she only needed those three words to know it. "There's nothing more to tell really," he said putting up his guards again. There was more to tell, she could sense it. But it was ok, she didn't need to hear that story yet. They were making their own right here and right now. There would be plenty of time to learn but she had to know how this would turn out first. And maybe he would be more willing to tell her the rest of the story if he knew what she was to him.

"And since then," she swallowed, looking up at him saddened by his words and emotions but also so nervous she could barely stand to sit still. "You've loved no one," she assumed sadly "and no one has loved you."

He seemed to stare at her for a while, like he suspected he knew the meaning behind her questions and the words that she'd used but couldn't believe it. It wouldn't surprise her if he did know the meaning, words were an art form to him. But, still, it was a strange look and an even stranger reaction. There seemed to be a million emotions behind it, too many to pick out. It was like the question tortured him in some way, but she couldn't figure out why it would. He leaned closer to her, and regarded her as he never had before. It was as if he could see deeper into her than anyone ever had in her life. Maybe he did. She'd long thought that he understood her better than anyone. Maybe this was why.

"Why did you come back?" he whispered. He was asking a question, but it didn't sound like one. She wasn't even sure he was asking her. It was as if he was asking the universe, the gods, fate, destiny, why she had come back. There was an accusation buried deep beneath the words. And looking at him now she realized that the mask she had seen come and go in various shades wasn't just lowered, it was gone. He was upset, but he was also afraid, as if returning had confirmed his worst fear. He knew why she had come back, and it scared him, terrified him by the looks of it. But he couldn't seem to pull himself away from her. Was it because he felt the same sensations that she felt drawing her closer to him? If the woman on the road was right, he loved her back, so what could scare him so much? Did he think it was his looks? That didn't matter to her. What she had seen of who he was inside was far more beautiful to her.

"I wasn't going to," she admitted, her heart speeding up. They were drawing closer, like two magnets that had no choice but to attach themselves to one another. She was nervous. She'd kissed a man before. But never romantically. Gaston's kisses were always quick and possessive, like he'd been doing it to let the world know she was his. But the second he'd been gone, she'd quickly sneered and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. But this, this would be different. She knew that it would be, if only she could convince herself to close the distance between them. "But, then," she was shaking, her knees knocking together nervously. Then what?! She had met a mysterious woman on the road who had told her of her heart's desire and sent her back here? "Something changed my mind," she chose to say instead of giving a full account. It was now or never. There was nothing she needed to say, nothing he needed to know. And if she didn't do it now her courage might wane.

It was the longest and slowest moment of her life. He was right there! But he seemed so far away. She was happy to see, though, that she wasn't making the journey completely on her own. He leaned in too, if only slightly, and with confidence she closed her eyes, deciding to let her body do what came naturally. Her mouth seemed to know where it was going, and she was surprised to find soft lips suddenly matching hers.

She was right. It was different. She was no expert, not on kissing. But was it her imagination, or was he kissing her back? It wasn't much, they simply held on for longer than she expected, savoring the feel of something much more intimate than the touching of a hand or a hug, and something far more natural and instinctual than holding his arms out to catch her when she fell. This was perfect. It was the happiest place in the world, and her instincts screamed at her to wrap her arms around him and allow him to envelop her completely, that she wanted more, that she needed more. But she couldn't, she had to see first, she had to know. So she opened her eyes and was met with a sight more beautiful than anything she could have ever dreamed of.


	21. Accusations

It was the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. She hadn't been expecting it and her mouth fell open with a silent gasp that turned into a happy smile. "Oh, what's happening?" he muttered. She knew exactly what was happening, she could see it, but he couldn't. How must it have felt for the one experiencing this wonderful transformation?! Before her eyes that greenish gold tint to his skin suddenly began to fade away. Starting with his lips, the place she had kissed him first and moving outward: nose, cheeks, chin, even his hair was taking on a lighter more natural shade.

It had worked. She'd broken his curse! Which could only mean one thing: he was her true love. No wonder she'd felt drawn to him, no wonder she'd never feared him, he was meant for her and she had been meant for him. There was a whole new world of possibilities opening up for them now, and she wanted nothing more than for the transformation to be complete and for them to begin discovering it together!

Boldly she reached out and pushed the soft hair away from his face. "Kiss me again!" she begged. His eyes. She could see his eyes now. Gazing down at her were no longer those strange searing reptilian eyes but gentle brown ones. They watched her with the same interest the others had as she spoke the words. They were taking in every sensation every word that she had said, trying to comprehend what had just happened, trying to understand. "It's working," she exclaimed for his sake and to her own relieved nerves.

"What is?" he asked his voice deep without any hint of the high pitches she'd become so accustomed to. And her heart skipped a beat as she felt him reach out for her, placing his hands at her waist. It was so natural, so perfect. Yet still he looked confused. It was like he was getting his senses back, his eyes squinting like they had to, for the first time, adjust to the low light around them. It was almost as if he was coming out of a dizzy spell, and she was grateful that he'd been sitting down. This moment couldn't have been more perfect, couldn't have been any better if she'd had a hundred years to plan it.

She smoothed his hair back and looked at him, excited for what had happened, excited to tell him what she had learned, and excited to see what he would do with himself now. "Any curse," she whispered to him, repeating the words the woman on the road spoke to her only a short while ago, "can be broken." She watched him as his jaw dropped and the words processed. She waited for the reaction, wondering what would happen next, what he would do what he would say. She waited to see the amazement and wonder on his face at what had been done.

Suddenly he pulled away from her so violently that it sent the stool he'd been sitting on flying across the room. "Who told you that?!" he yelled. Her jaw dropped, not only was this not the reaction she'd been planning on but the sudden violent outburst seemed to have stopped any progress that the curses cure had made and she found herself staring back at the same monstrous form she'd been confronting since she first laid eyes on him months ago. "Who knows that?!" he demanded when she didn't answer. She'd been so shocked that she forgot he'd asked her a question.

She still felt shocked, she couldn't believe this was happening couldn't believe what she was staring at. "I, I don't know…" Her brain seemed to have paused and she had to shake her head and look away from him to try and get it to work again. Who'd told her that? She knew the answer to this question. "She, she, uh, she." She took a risk and looked up at him, he wasn't looking at her. He seemed to have realized something and had raised his hands to silence her.

He spun on the spot "She…" he muttered like the word was as good as a name to him. She watched as he walked determinedly over to that mirror that he kept covered up. The one that he'd warned her about uncovering, telling her that she could never tell who would be looking back at her. She stood to watch his actions, equal parts amazed and disappointed. No matter how much she wanted to she couldn't seem to stop watching him.

"You. Evil. Soul!" He shouted, punctuating each word with anger. And despite his earlier warnings he snapped the thick covering off of the glass and looked into the mirror. She saw nothing. Nothing but him and her own reflection wringing her hands nervously as she wondered what she should do now. "This was you!" he yelled at the mirror, still no one appeared. "You turned her against me," she walked forward wondering if she would see something different if only she got closer to the object. But it was just a mirror, he was only talking to himself. No, there had to be more to this. She had never known him to be insane, or act this way before. There had to be someone he was talking to somehow. "You think you can make me weak," he accused "you think you can defeat me!"

"Who are you talking to?" she asked bravely, finally getting her thoughts together. Was there any way this moment could be salvaged.

"The Queen!" he squealed into the mirror, then turned and faced her. "Your friend the Queen!" The Queen? The Evil Queen? She'd known of her but she'd never met her. Her village had never involved themselves with her affairs especially after all the rumors started. Why would she be friends with a person like that? "How did she get to you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

She didn't like the look on his face. He'd never looked at her with that much anger in all the time since she'd been here. Not even when she had freed Robin Hood. And though she'd never feared him, she suddenly feared his temper and his words. He needed to calm down, he needed to understand. She needed to understand. "The, the Queen?" she stuttered with a shake of her head. None of what he was saying made sense to her. "I don't…"

"I knew this was a trick," he accused creeping closer to her with all the grace of a hunter stalking his prey. She had to fight the urge to run. "I knew you could never care for me," care for him? She'd just broken his curse! How could she not care for him?! Whatever anger he had toward the Queen, the rage was blinding him, making him unable to see what he had right in front of him. "Oh, yeah," he whispered like he'd just pieced everything together. "You're working for her," he accused, she meant to defend herself but he cut her off again "Or is this all you?" he questioned "Is this you being the hero and killing the beast?"

She had to get him to see. She wasn't trying to hurt him she was trying to help him. How could he have seen a curse breaking as threatening? "It was working…"

"Shut up!" he screamed cutting her off.

"This means it's true love," she shouted back, hoping the words would reach the man inside of him.

"Shut the hell up!" he yelled louder.

This had all gone so wrong! How could this have happened? It should have been easy. So why was she trying to prove something to him with words when her actions should have been all the proof he needed. "Why won't you believe me?" she cried, begged really. But he was gone, the monster was fighting back and had his claws in him so deep that she had never seen him acting this bad in all the time they'd had together.

Suddenly the monster grabbed her roughly around the arms and shook her furiously. She closed her eyes trying to brace herself against his rage. "Because no one, no one, can ever, ever, love me!" he screamed. He released one of her arms and pulled, practically dragged, her toward the hall and down into the dungeons. She fought him at first but the grip on her arm only tightened, enough to know that she would be seeing bruises there in no time at all.

Before her suddenly was the cell that she'd spent her months living in. It was bare and she had a second the remember that it was because she had planned to change rooms before reality hit her and she was forcefully thrown into the dungeon and landed, fortunately enough, on all fours, her palms scrapping against the stone and her knees stinging painfully as they caught her weight and absorbed the blow. She felt a brief moment of thankfulness that it wasn't her nose that had met the hard stone surface, and then she heard the door creak closed and slam shut behind her. The click of the lock seemed to echo inside the hallow space, taunting her failed actions. But it wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of the tears that suddenly began streaming down her face, the sharp intakes of scared and ragged breathes, and the wrenching sound of her heart beat as it began to break. She balled herself up there on the ground and wept as she realized what had just happened. It seemed clear enough to her. In only one brief moment the delicate pieces of her soul had shattered into a million broken shards. And she didn't know if they could ever be put back together.


	22. Brave Words of Truth

She couldn't sleep. She couldn't eat. She couldn't move. Not even to sip the tea that had appeared in the cell with her chipped cup. She just sat there, staring at the door, willing it to open for her. She had spent the endless days and hours thinking of every possible scenario of what would happen when it did finally give way. In her imagination she had already stormed out without a word, rushed off to talk to him, yelled at him, and insisted that she was going to stay. In her mind he had responded with every possible reaction: he'd told her she was right and begged for forgiveness, he hadn't said anything and stalked off, he'd watched her silently leave, and he told her that he couldn't stand the thought of her going because he loved her.

He did. That much was clear. The curse had been breaking. She thought back to the moment before he had realized it was breaking. How he had kissed her back. How he had reached for her as his skin had changed and grasped her arms ever so gently, like she was the only one that he had ever needed. He was her true love and she was his. But he didn't want to believe it. It wasn't her. It was the power. She had assumed that he wanted freed from his curse but obviously that was not the case. His curse gave him the power and it had become so much a part of him it was no wonder that he had lost track of the man inside. He was so desperate to hold on to that infernal power that he had convinced himself that no one could ever love him. She could. Even after all this, she knew that she still could, if only he would just admit it. If he would let her go and choose her over his power, she could help him to see how much of a man he really was.

As if she had summoned him, the door to her prison suddenly swung open with a creak and banged against the wall. She startled at the sound and stared as he walked into the small room. All the words, all the imaginary conversations that she'd had here alone left her mind. She'd built a cocoon of courage in this cell and now that the door was open it was escaping her. She swallowed hard, trying to slow her heart rate, and not burst into tears at the sight of him. Words. She needed words. "So," she whispered, hoping he could hear her meek voice. "What are you going to do to me?" She had wondered this the entire time. Would she spend the remainder of her life locked in this little cell? Would they work out their differences? Or would he just decide that she was still his maid and they would remain together in painful separation for all of their days? She didn't think she could bear that. Not knowing what she knew.

He was watching her, just as she was him, with the same amount of pain on his face that she bore. She didn't expect it to be an easy decision but she still wanted an answer. He raised his arm and pointed at the door, and with his teeth clenched together ordered simply, "Go."

Go where? The Library? Clean? Out of this terrible cell? She watched, expecting him to say more to her, to explain. Instead he turned his back on her, not saying a word. "Go?" she prompted, never had such a simple word confounded her or held so much weight.

"I don't want you any more dearie," her chest heaved with his words. She'd faced this in her mind, but she didn't actually think this would be how he'd respond. At the very least she expected to remain here in some capacity. She didn't expect the words to be like that though. She felt like it was ages ago, when she'd first shown up and been locked in and called "dearie". He was putting space between them again, separating them not just physically but also emotionally. "Dearie" made her no better than the nameless people he made deals with. He was attempting to make it easier. On who? Himself? Her? It was much too late for that.

She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes as she stood and brushed herself off, daring to give him a glance. This was it? After everything he'd been through this was really how it was going to end? One poorly timed decision and he dismissed her with a few unfeeling words?! She felt her legs carry her out of the cell, all the time hoping he would call her back at the last minute and say something. But he didn't.

Then she would. A rush of intense courage flooded her body making her stop just outside the door. If he wanted her to go then she would. It was supposed to be easy for two people truly in love and she didn't want to fight for something that should have, that had, come to them naturally. But she wouldn't leave him with the upper hand in this. What was happening wasn't her fault, he had made the choice and he had to know exactly what he had chosen.

Riding the wave of bravery she turned on her heel and stormed back into the place that was her prison, that he was voluntarily locking himself into. She stepped in front of him, forcing him to take his eyes off the window and meet her gaze. After this moment he could put all the space between the two of them that he wanted, but for now she was going to break into as much of it as she could. It was her last stand. "You were freeing yourself!" she yelled, her voice raw from the tears she had cried for him. "You could have had happiness if you just believed someone could want you!" She could see the sadness painted on his face. But she couldn't allow herself to feel sorry for him. He was doing this to himself, not her. "But you couldn't take a chance," she said more to herself than to him.

"That's a lie" he whispered.

She shook her head at the words and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and find the words that she needed to say because she knew that she might never get this opportunity again. It wasn't a lie. If it was he wouldn't look this sad, he wouldn't look like his best friend in the world had just died, maybe she had. She certainly didn't feel like the person she was when she befriended him. She took a step closer to him, closer than she'd ever dared come before that wretched night. "You're a coward Rumpelstiltskin," she didn't know where the words were coming from, only that they were true. "And no matter how thick you make your skin, that doesn't change."

He didn't yell, he didn't interrupt, he didn't even give an inappropriate giggle. "I'm not a coward, dearie," he whispered harshly. Something about her words had touched a nerve, and he was being just as human with her as she was him. Good, he owed her that much. "It's quite simple really, my power means more to me than you." Anyone else might have taken him at his word, but it was too late for her. She'd been with him too long, she'd peered behind his mask, and knew what he was thinking and feeling. He couldn't hide from her. He did love her, and he did love his power. But his power wasn't what he treasured, it was his shield. And like any good coward would he was using it to protect himself against the fear he was really feeling.

She took another step forward "No," she answered looking at his face. If this was it, then he was going to know exactly what she knew and what he wouldn't let himself know. "No, it doesn't. You just don't think I can love you." This time it was him that had to take a deep breath. She saw the shock under his stony expressionless face. She had been right. All along, she had been right. And he couldn't hide the panic shinning in his eyes. He was trying to hurt her. He was trying to make her leave. If he didn't, she knew, as well as he, one day she might really wear him down, and he wasn't willing to risk that. She wasn't going to live her life like that. He didn't have to make her leave. She had heard all she needed to and she was about to make it really easy on him.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. She wanted everything to be forgiven, she wanted him to admit it to her, but she needed to say the next words. And they were the most difficult words she'd ever said in her life. More difficult than her first "thank you", than the "yes" she'd said to her father about marrying Gaston, more difficult than the words "I will go with you, forever". But she'd managed once, she would manage now. "Now you've made your choice. And you're going to regret it." She tried not to think of what would become of him after she left. What her life would be like now that she would never see him again. But the images crept into her mind, and they were the catalyst that broke her voice and made her eyes swim with tears. Him sitting alone by the fire. Her reading a book that would never truly satisfy. Making deals. Cleaning kitchens. "Forever," one look at his eyes told her that the words were sinking into him, and he knew they were true. No adventure, no story, no amount of time, no thought would ever compare to what they had shared. "All you'll have is an empty heart," she had to take a deep breath to make sure that her words weren't coming out in an agonizing cry as she felt her heart begin to shrivel in her chest for what she was about to do to them both. "And a chipped cup," she bit off the last word and watched him. His face showed signs of the hurt that she was feeling but he didn't act on them. She could.

Not being able to say good-bye, and not being able to hold the hurt in any longer she turned on her heel and hurried out of the dark dungeon. She marched up the stairs, their favorite room blurring as tears clouded her sight, vaguely aware of the strange crunching under her feet. She pulled open the heavy wooden door and ran down the path, putting as much space between the two of them as she could, not even daring to glance back at the place she felt like she was leaving her heart. She just hoped that he somehow knew that, and that he would keep it safe for her. She may not have the gift of knowing the future but she hoped she was wrong. She hoped the two of them could scrape together what was left of their tragic cowardly lives and move on.

Her legs failed her. She found herself on that same road she had first met the strange woman, and exhausted from running, mind racing a mile a minute, her legs fell out from under her and she collapsed against a tree. It was there that she let out the most heart breaking cry that she had ever heard in her life and allowed herself to sob. She hoped they wouldn't regret this choice, but as another howl worked its way passed her lips, she suddenly doubted it.


	23. Love is Hope

She had been stupid really. Wandering around, village to village, not really caring if she ate or if she drank, not paying attention to how tired she really was instead of just exhausted and heartbroken. It was unnatural, being separated from a person's true love. There was a reason that people who were in love got married and had babies and seemed to be eternally happy. It was because not being with them was a fate worse than death. Or so it seemed to her.

But it had gotten her here at least. It had shown her that there were still good people in the world. Her body had been unable to cope, unable to handle the stress that she was putting it through and it wasn't long after arriving here that she realized, too late it seemed, that the pain and discomfort she was feeling wasn't from her soul, but her body in need of food, water, and rest. Her head had been spinning when she saw the tavern but she somehow managed to wander in and ask, beg, for something to drink before her world went black.

Upon waking, she discovered that she'd passed out. At least that's what the wife of the man who owned the tavern told her when she woke up in the strange room. She'd been placed in one of their upper rooms they used for travelers, given water, slept, and after a few days had returned to the land of the living, if she could call it that. She was weak, but still alive. She'd vowed then that she wasn't going to let what had happened kill her off entirely, as it almost had. It could take her soul, she didn't want it any more, she didn't need one that was infected with his glances and small touches, one that lifted at the sound of his voice, and fell when he told her to "go!" She could make a new soul for herself, she already had a body to put it in, she just had to start taking care of that body. After a few more days of rest, water, and food the owners of the tavern allowed her to stay if she worked for a lower wage to pay back the debt she owed them. In return, and besides that wage, they would give her a meal and place to stay the night until she could get on her feet again.

It was a generous offer, and she'd taken them up on it right away. There was no reason not to in her mind. She had nowhere else to go. No one waiting for her. She didn't want to be a princess again; she wasn't ready to face that. So she had simply given them the name Belle, and hoped that it was common enough and far enough away from the rumors that she wouldn't be known.

The town wasn't so bad. It was a mining town, and so the tavern was often full at night with men who earned wages during the day and came here to drink away their sorrows and forget their pitiful lives. And then there were the funny dwarves who came in after their shift in the mines. They stood out simply because they were happy with their work and enjoyed each others presence. Her job here was simple. She would wait at night, for everyone to leave so that she could help to clean the bar in the morning's light. The wife of the owner who she was friendly with but wouldn't say that she was friends with, gave her free ale and left her to silence her own despair with it. It was often loud but she liked it that way. Between the ale that seemed to dull the voice in her head and the noise that drowned it out she very rarely had time to think about anything, in particular him.

Tonight she was watching the table of dwarves across from her, enjoying each other's company, playing jokes, and laughing just like always. She felt a stab of pain as she watched them. She'd never feel that way again. No, he'd kept the part of her that allowed her to feel things like happiness. And just the act of watching other's having a good time made her feel physically ill and sad. She turned her attention away from the happy dwarves, and back to the one that seemed isolated from the rest. He was watching the others with that same look of wanting to feel happiness but not being able. She wondered if that was just part of his personality or if something was wrong. But she couldn't bring herself to ask him, her days of trying to help were over. It hadn't worked out so well for her last time.

And it appeared she didn't need to, another dwarf had picked up on his wistful demeanor and come over taking the seat opposite him. "What's the matter?" he asked. She turned her head, eager to hear what it was bothering the poor dwarf but trying to appear as she wasn't listening and that she didn't care what was happening with him. "You've barely touched your food."

"I don't know," the dwarf answered with a confused sigh. "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't feel at all like myself. Maybe I should have Doc take a look at me," he mused. Now she purposefully tried not to listen. She knew the cause of those symptoms and she could barely deal with her own heartache, the last thing she needed was to deal with his as well.

"You're going to trust a dwarf that got his medical degree from a pick axe?" Despite trying not to listen the words still found their way to her, determine to make her think about what she didn't want to. Though she did have to admit, the comment did make her smirk a bit. Not only did the dwarf have a good point, but no doctor would ever be able to tell him what was wrong. His physical problems were only a manifestation of the emotional turmoil within him. "I wouldn't worry about it, dwarfs don't get sick. Must be in your head," the other dwarf hypothesized.

"It's not in his head it's in his heart" she muttered to herself, but it had come out too loudly and both of the dwarves turned to look at her. Her eyes widened as she realized what had happened. She hadn't wanted to get involved but it looked as though her mouth had other plans. Couldn't she do anything right anymore? The dwarves stared at her, not because they were angry that she'd been listening but rather they looked like they wanted her to explain more. Shrugging her shoulders like it was nothing, but still unable to come up with a decent friendly smile she stated "You're in love."

She hoped it was the only explanation that they would need. That the light bulb would click and they would laugh at how silly it was they hadn't realized it to begin with, but instead the dwarf across from him rebuked her theory "aw, that's impossible. Dwarves can't fall in love!"

She found herself leaning forward, if monsters could fall in love, if a beast could become a man again because of love, then there was no doubt in her mind. Dwarves most certainly could fall in love. "Trust me," she muttered, trying to sound pleasant and not pessimistic about the concept that had ruined her life instead of completing it. "I know love and you're in it," she said regretfully. Part of her wished she didn't know the look of it so well, that she had never known it, but that idea gave her a pain in her chest that was even more numbing than the idea of never having met him. So she wished instead that there could have been a better outcome to their story.

The other dwarf gave a dismissive hand wave at her ideas and left, but the other one, the dwarf suffering turned toward her with great interest. "What's it like?" he asked eagerly.

It was like having a knife in your heart and someone turning it just for fun. It was like free falling off a cliff and reaching a terrible sudden ending as body met ground. It was like having your heart ripped from your chest and being held captive to another. It was…her dark thoughts came to a sudden stop.

It couldn't be as bad as all that. If it was, then true love wouldn't be known for love, it would be called "true pain" or "true suffering" instead. That was what hers had felt like…did feel like, and that was precisely the problem. The dwarf hadn't been rejected by his true love, not yet at least. And besides, the thought of him, being with him, and the idea of true love, hadn't always been that painful to her. It hadn't all been bad. It might have been at the end, but before, that was a different emotion, a different feeling all together. For the first time in weeks she found herself giving a smile and blushing as she remembered him catching her off the ladder, the look he'd given her when she'd first worn her blue dress, and even the feel of him sitting next to her on the table as they'd reflected on his past, and the looks he'd given her as she'd spoken of her hopes and dreams.

No, it wasn't all bad. "It's the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world," she explained, focusing on those moments. How to describe that feeling seemed impossible, but then again, she wasn't explaining it to someone who'd never had it. He was in it. Right now. Her thoughts would make more sense to him than they would to anyone else in the world. "Love is hope," she reflected, thinking back to the moment of perfection just before she'd made the terrible decision to kiss him. "It fuels our dreams," or in her case makes a Princess realize that for the first time in her life she didn't need to be a princess, or a hero. From where she sat now all the ambitions she'd ever had paled in comparison to the dream that she had left behind. As long as he was by her side she could do anything, be anything. And if she wasn't…love could also destroy those dreams in an instant.

But he didn't need to hear that now, it was the one part of the story, he wouldn't understand. "And if you're in it," she continued after a pause, "you need to enjoy it," she insisted, wishing that she had had more time to enjoy the feeling of being in love with him. Savor the idea that someone loved her back in that way, before the brief knowledge that she had love had ended so suddenly. "Because love doesn't always last forever," she whispered. Her mind remembered that terrible feeling of being rejected. Was it that love didn't last forever or just that he was incapable of returning it? Sometimes she still felt like she loved him, thought that if she didn't then it wouldn't still hurt her to think of him and their time together. It was a thought that kept her awake at night, and the one she tried to avoid during the day.

"But if love's so great, why do I feel so bad right now?" he asked, voicing the very question that went through her mind several times every day. She knew the answer to it as well. She'd had too much time to think about it.

"You need to be with the person you love," she explained. Nothing would be right for him until he was with her again, which was why nothing would ever be right for her again. Why she couldn't smile anymore.

"Yeah, but, how do I know she feels the same way. All she talked about was going to see some fireflies, not loving me." She was glad he had moved onto the next question quickly, the idea of explaining how you knew another person loved you wasn't one that she was comfortable talking about. In fact, this entire conversation had gotten far too personal for her taste, and she was already feeling the lump in her throat when he asked his question. She might not know much about love, but she was a girl after all. What he was asking her had less to do about love and more to do about how woman communicated. She could translate easily enough.

"What, what did she tell you about these fireflies?" she asked suspiciously.

"Ah, that she was going to go see them on the hilltop tonight, that she heard they were the most beautiful sight in all the land." There was a memory there. Of hiding away in some obscure corner of the castle so that he would come find her and make a request that would inevitably place her in the same room as he was. She hadn't done it purposefully at first, but as time wore on she found herself not just wondering if he would find her but hoping that he would. That had been before she knew she'd loved him, and she hadn't known then why she had the urge to stay in his company. She understood now, and the memory along with the clueless nature that the dwarf had for it made her laugh. A real laugh. It appeared she could smile or laugh, but only when he was in her head in some way. "What?!" the dwarf demanded, and she quickly wiped the smile off her face, not wanting him to think that she was insulting him.

"She wasn't telling you about the fireflies," she explained "she was inviting you to go be with her."

"You think so," the dwarf smiled, elated at the thought that her words might be true.

She nodded, "I've had my heart broken enough to know when somebody's is reaching out," she explained willing herself not to cry again. She could feel the tears forming in her eyes, feel the corners of her mouth turning down again to resume their perpetual frown. She had tried, she had reached out, and no one had caught her that time. Suddenly a loud, joyful cry erupted from the other dwarves at the table and it distracted him enough to look away from her and gave her the opportunity to collect her thoughts, her tears, and emotions and shove them back down for a few more minutes. She'd have to go soon, lock herself in the tiny room that she had and cry again. There was no way to contain it these days, but at least she was getting better at sensing the arrival of the break down they brought with them.

"Now go!" she told the dwarf as he looked back over at her. What was he waiting here for? If she was out there, then there was only one place he needed to be. "Find your love, find your hope, find your dreams" she encouraged, wishing that she had better luck doing that herself.

"I will!" he said standing, bouncing excitedly on his toes. "My name isn't Dreamy for nothing right?" he said like he was still trying to convince himself. She smirked at him, the closest thing to a genuine smile she could give at the moment. He made a step forward then turned back to her. "Wait. How do I thank you? I don't even know your name."

She smiled at his words. He was a sweet dwarf, but he was also wasting time, and she didn't much feel like being thanked. "My name is Belle," she answered "And you can thank me by going to see her." Dreamy beamed at her. "Go," she repeated, and with a last glance at the dwarves he disappeared out the door. They hadn't even noticed him go. She hoped he would find her tonight, hoped that he would get what he wanted, hoped that she hadn't just sent a good innocent soul off into the world to be devoured, just as hers had been.


	24. Second Chances

It was hard to feel sorry for yourself when there was someone yelling in your ear. In fact, it was downright unfair. She was trying her best to forget her life, to drown her sorrows in a good book, and the amount of ale that she had shouldn't have made it difficult. But the man yelling across the way was. "There's a fearsome beast ravaging a faraway land," he told the crowd gathered around him. What caught her attention was the word "beast." She had just left a man who was commonly called a beast. Was that who he was talking about? Was she close to him? Was this "ravaging" something that he was responsible for? "His eyes burn with fire," the man added. No, then. This really was an animal of some kind. It was a beast, but it wasn't her beast. She couldn't tell if she was happy about that or sad. She should probably be happy. After what happened the last time that they had spoken she should never want to see that man again. But she couldn't deny that she had felt her stomach do a hopeful flop when she heard the word.

It was a silly reaction. What did she expect would happen if it had been him they were talking about? Would she walk up to him? Tell him off? Face the beast, break the spell, and save the day?! Her heart sank at the words. No, she'd been there. She'd done the first and tried the second. All it had gotten her was an angry rejection, no home, and a lot of heartache. She'd spent countless days thinking about that day, wondering where it all went wrong, dreaming about what she could have done differently. Finally she was to the point in accepting that she couldn't do anything about the past, and it was no use torturing herself over. Funny how easy it was to believe this about others, but when she was thinking about herself it was much more difficult.

She was fine. Really, she was. The nice people at the tavern gave her a small room and a dinner for cleaning rooms during the day and the tavern in the early morning hours after everyone left. She'd made quick friends with the town librarian and in return for helping him around the shop he gave her all the books she could read and the occasional scrap of food. Bed, food, work, and books. What more could she need? She was fine.

But sometimes she found herself wondering if anyone had ever died from not being around their true love. Because as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't deny what she had seen. True loves kiss could break any curse, and hers had, ergo whether he liked it or not, wanted it or not, he was her true love. And after months of standing behind him, of feeling things inside her that she'd never felt before, after falling in love, sometimes it hurt more than the ale could numb. So he didn't want her, so he'd rather live with his power than take a chance on her, that was all well and good for him, but what about her. He had made up his mind, but that meant that she had to live with his choice as well. It simply wasn't fair! And so she had to cope. She would sit. She would read her books and drink her ale and continue to tell herself that she was fine.

And maybe if she kept telling herself that, one day she would wake up and it would be true.

"It's called the Yaoguai," the man explained, breaking her thoughts away from the man that held them. She watched him carefully, her interest suddenly sparking at the monsters name. The Yaoguai? As in the Yaoguai that she had read about? As in the subject of the book that she had recently translated for the librarian? "No man has been able to kill it. But we will!" he yelled with confidence. That description of the creature sounded about right. "There's room on our wagon, who's going to join us?" she watched as the crowd raised their hands and voices volunteering to go but judging by the crew that he was gathering she very firmly doubted they would get the results they were after. They had no idea what they were going after.

But she did.

The stray thought made her smile, made her want to laugh at her own foolishness. It was absurd really. Hadn't she learned her lesson? She couldn't save a single man, why should she think that she could save an entire village. But still, the thought of going on a new adventure instead of sitting here and feeling sorry for herself, as she dwelled on her mistakes, was tempting.

"Looking for an adventure?" She glanced up at the voice that had dared to echo her thoughts. The dwarf. The one from the other night, who hadn't known that he was in love. He stood before her now, a beautiful smile shining on his face. It was contagious and she found herself smiling as she looked at him. He certainly looked better than he had when she had last seen him. Happier. What had happened between then and now?

"Dreamy right?" she asked, trying to recall his name.

"Yes," he blushed "I came to thank you," he said setting his mug down and joining her at the table. She hadn't any idea what on earth he was thanking her for, and must have given him a curious look, as he explained: "that advice you gave me last night, it worked. Nova and I are running away together!"

She laughed with happiness as the incident triggered her memory. The girl that had been trying to tell him to meet her must have been Nova. She'd told him to go to her. Apparently it had been a fruitful endeavor. At least she had the power to connect others with their true loves. Now if only she could come up with some idea that would help her. No! She pushed the depressing words out of her mind. It would be easy to let herself feel sad at a time like this, but this wasn't about her, it was about Dreamy and Nova. She had to focus on that. "That's wonderful" she reached forward and placed her hands over his. She took a deep breath reminding herself that just because she couldn't have love didn't mean that others in the world didn't. Sometimes things did work out. Sometimes she could give good advice. She couldn't be right all the time, but after her last decision had gone so horribly wrong, it was good to remember that it wasn't her. She wasn't broken, and she could still do good things.

She glanced automatically over at the table where the man was now having the villagers of this small town sign their names to the paper for the journey. She could still do good, couldn't she? "You should sign up!" Dreamy suggested, following her gaze and reading the interest that was so obviously plastered across her face. She laughed at herself as her last "adventure" seemed to flash before her eyes. The wound was still raw, she wondered if it ever wouldn't be. That alone was enough to remind her of her newfound place in this world. She was a princess turned cleaning lady and barmaid. And her days of taming beasts were over.

She shook her head. "I've always dreamt of heroics," she explained "but I think it's safer to stick to my books" that way when something tragic happened at least it didn't hurt as much as her life did. But how was she suppose to tell a person who was about to run away with their true love that she'd been burned so badly by her own she never wanted to step outside her comfort zone again. Her final words to him replayed in her mind and she could feel every emotion she'd felt in that moment come back to her. She never wanted to feel that way again. No, her books were definitely safer. "They're the only adventures I know that have happy endings," she muttered. She wasn't going to cry. Not again. She was done wasting her tears on someone who would never care about her the same way she did about him.

"Maybe this one will have one too" Dreamy commented. He was just trying to help, and it was sweet how he was trying to return the favor. But, unless he could turn back time, what had become of her life was nothing that anyone else could fix. And as far as that adventure went, well her opinion of the men going hadn't exactly changed in the short time she'd been watching them. They had no idea what they were up against.

"I, uh, I doubt it. Last time I faced a beast it didn't end well," she hadn't meant to share it, she didn't want someone so happy to suffer through her miserable story. But she hoped that he would take the tone and words of the story to heart and realize it really wasn't something that she wanted to talk, or even think, about.

"What are you talking about?" he asked eagerly, naïvely. She was speechless. Too kind to tell him to drop it, but too withdrawn to admit anything to him. He wasn't the first person who had asked her what had happened, and he wouldn't be the last. Somehow she was going to have to get to a point where she could say something besides "let's just say I'm unlucky." She opened her mouth, hoping that something helpful would come out.

"Men!" she glanced over at the group of people surrounded by their leader "follow me!" they dawned their hats and travel gear. "The Yaoguai awaits," he said mysteriously before leading them out of the tavern.

"Get on that wagon!" Dreamy insisted. She breathed a sigh of relief that he had left their conversation behind. "Go!" he ordered. She wished he would stop. Her defenses were breaking down, and she was considering the fact that she had information they could use, that she was already well fed, and could use some new scenery. And then there was the most appealing reason. If she went she would at least have a new history. She might even wind up with a new town to explore. And maybe there when they asked her where she had come from or how she had made her way to them she could answer "I killed the Yaoguai". In her mind even saying "I was with the group that attempted to kill the Yaoguai" would be good enough. It was a better past than the one she had at present. And it was more appealing than sitting here every night. "Take a chance!" Dreamy encouraged.

What was the worst that could happen? She could die, but she was pretty sure that who she was had already died. At least this way she had the option to die a hero. How strange. In trying to liberate him of his past, she'd ended up running from her own. If she couldn't be a hero to him, then she could try to be for a poor village that had no hope, at the very least she could provide the information to help the group going now, maybe save their lives as well.

She took a deep breath, knowing the massive decision that was ahead of her. It would take courage, but if she'd mustered it once then she could generate it again. Just because he chose to be a lonely man all the rest of his life, didn't mean that she had to resign herself to that fate yet. And, ultimately, that was what convinced her that it was the right option. She could curl up in a ball and regret every decision she'd ever made ignoring the world around her until she became a person just as afraid as he was or she could live her life the way he didn't. And maybe one day, if they ever crossed paths again, he would see who she had become and then he would regret letting her get away. But she had to take a step first, before that journey could begin.

"Thank you!" she told Dreamy, quickly gathering her book and the small shoulder bag that held all she owned in this world. She felt hope suddenly budding in her chest again. It had been so long since she felt it that she almost didn't recognize the feeling. She wished she could tell Dreamy what exactly she was feeling and how grateful she was, but she didn't want to miss that wagon. It was the beginning of a new life, and she wasn't going to let it get away.

She gave him another laugh as she got up. It really was absurd, a princess off to kill the beast and save the village, but what in her life had been normal? She was nearly out the door when she heard Dreamy yell. "Wait! Belle!" she turned to see him getting out of his chair "Wait!" He was fiddling with something in his pocket. He pulled out a small cloth pouch the color of deep purple and handed it to her. "It's fairy dust," he said as she held it in her hand. "It might come in handy." Her heart sped up as she looked at the small gift sitting in her hand. Just when she was feeling like she could leave those memories behind her they came stampeding back into her mind, threatening to send angry tears into her eyes. She knew the mines were in this town, but so far she'd been able to avoid them. She wanted nothing to do with magic, not for as long as she lived.

But she was proud for keeping herself together, for just shaking her head and handing it back to him. "Oh, no, thank you, I've seen what magic does to people," it was no good for anyone and certainly not for her.

Dreamy squinted his eyes at her, judging her for her odd reaction to the substance. "You've seen what dark magic does," whether he had guessed or had been speaking to some of the rumors she was sure the villagers were spreading she couldn't be sure. For her own sake she preferred to believe he had come up with it from the look on her face. "Fairies use this for good." Good? There was good magic and dark magic in the world? She'd never even considered the possibility. But she supposed that a man called the Dark One didn't get his reputation by performing good magic. She was already about to take one chance, why not take another one, and redeem her beliefs about magic in the process. If she was going to do this she had to be willing to believe in all kinds of things, new things that she would see and experience, and the person that she could be. She was willing to open herself up to that, what harm could it do? "Now go be a hero!" Dreamy stated happily. She smiled at the possibilities ahead of her, and then barely got out a "thanks" in the middle of her excited giggle as she headed out.

It wasn't too late for second chances. And amid her excitement and hopefulness, and that layer of anger and sadness, there was a different kind of hope. A hope that maybe she wasn't the only one that would see this. She hoped that someday he would realize that it was never too late for second chances.


	25. Between Here and There

It wasn't easy convincing the men to let her go along. She was a girl, after all, with little training, no skills, and frankly the dress hadn't helped her cause. In an act, she suspected, to trick her into not coming the leader had told her that they were leaving tomorrow at first light. If she wanted to go she should be there, because they wouldn't wait if she was late. With an excited smile she'd run down the street to the library that she had been working for. Although it was night time, she found the friendly man and explained the situation to him. His warm brown eyes had watered when she told him that she wouldn't be coming back, but he'd wrapped his wrinkly hands around hers and told her that she would need something far more suitable than her current attire for an adventure like this. It killed her to admit it, since this was the only thing he'd given her that she still had. But, he was right, it would do her no good now. The dress would have to go.

He'd taken her upstairs to his sons room and he and his wife had run around piecing together what was an acceptable grouping of clothes. The pants had come from their son when he was younger. The boots, gloves, and scarf were his wife's. The top was a little more complicated. They wanted her to be warm and protected but his wife had also insisted with a gleam in her eye that a woman, pretty as she was, still needed to feel like a woman, no matter what she was doing. So they found her an undershirt, with a hood on it, then a purple bodice that the woman separated from one of her own dresses with a slash of a knife, a warm jacket and belt was added and as she stared in the mirror before her, tying her hair back and out of her face, she was almost happy to see that she didn't recognize the woman staring back at her. She looked like a hero, she just wished she could feel like one.

But there, behind her, her blue dress and tan shoes sat upon the bed, looking lonely and dull without her. She felt guilty looking at them there. Getting rid of them wasn't easy, and following her gaze the librarian's wife held the fabric. "I doubt this will last on the road," she said in her frail but kind voice.

She had to take a long swallow and deep breath before saying "you keep it." She reached behind her and removed her grandmother's necklace, placing it in her shoulder bag for safe keeping, at least she could keep something that was hers. But the old woman wouldn't agree to her request. She shook her head, saying she couldn't and that it wasn't right but she only smiled and said "keep it, sell it for your trouble, I'm sure it would fetch a good price" the words felt like a knife to her gut, but she'd said them, and now it was as it should be. Now she really was someone new.

The old lady only smiled sweetly again. "I'll keep it here, for you, for when you come back."

She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out and she found tears of relief and gratefulness fill her eyes and "thank you," was what followed instead. Whether or not she ever came back to this place, at least it would be safe. At least she'd know where it was.

The next morning it was obvious that they didn't think that she would show up, and there were many that weren't happy that she had, but she climbed aboard a wagon and opened anew the book that the librarian had shoved into her hands before she left. He'd kept the translation for himself but he'd given her the original. It didn't make a difference to her, she was just grateful. Everything she, they, would need to defeat the Yaoguai was in this book, he had essentially given them a road map to victory. And finally she was on her way to a new life.

At first it hadn't been too bad. The men looked at her with disbelief and sneers of disgust but for the most part left her alone…during the day. When the night fell, when she got a tent to herself, she saw the horrors of being the only woman among a group of men. But fortunately she learned how to deal with it. Retire early, bind the tent flaps shut, snuff out the candle, and sleep with one eye open.

But as time wore on, it got easier. Apparently, some of the men had missed the part about having to travel to a "far away land." Though they had once started with about thirty men, horses and wagons galore, and enough supplies for everyone soon they were down to a man riding on horseback and four of them on the back of their last wagon drawn by two horses. The few men that were left were harmless, but as the number dropped they'd gotten more verbal, taunting and teasing her. They never hurt her or threatened her physically, but she'd heard a conversation through the fabric of her tent while they were talking by the fire last night, one that had put her on guard.

They were strained and stressed and like anyone they began to look for the cause, whether or not one existed. She was an easy target. They had decided that all the misfortune they'd encountered so far was her fault. They thought they would have moved faster, been abandoned by less of their companions, even have one more tent, if only they hadn't been cursed to have a woman with them. She'd hoped to be a hero, but instead, they'd made her out to be a nuisance, and she'd listened sadly as they come up with a plan, preparing herself for what would come, and making plans for when it did. She knew that they were looking for a busy village, somewhere to leave her, lose her in the crowd, so that she wouldn't cause problems but also wouldn't leave a black mark on their conscious for abandoning her in the middle of nowhere. It was fair to them, it was unimaginable for her.

But she refused to give up. As a result she'd been keeping her nose in the book, trying to find something, anything, that would convince them that she was useful, that she would be helpful when they arrived. Somehow this trip had become more important to her than she'd ever imagined, and the thought of being left in the country, rejected again, made her stomach turn. Until they abandoned her, she was going to work as hard as she could to prove herself. Maybe she would prove to herself that she could be this person as well.

"What's that!" asked the man named Alistair. He was the one that had recruited them all in the first place, and he'd been the one that seemed to enjoy taunting her the most. He thought of himself as a leader, and his voice had been loudest as they'd plotted against her. As much as she knew she should just ignore him, not add another reason to get rid of her, she found the answer automatically falling from her lips. She wouldn't just roll over and be quiet and calm for them. She just couldn't be something she wasn't.

"Ah, a book!" She answered, slightly annoyed with the man. She didn't particularly like him, but she couldn't dislike him entirely either. He was a lot like Gaston and reminded her of what it might be like to have an irritating little brother. But she had a lot of experience dealing with people like that. She knew how to fight fire with fire. "I trust you've seen one before," she asked, looking at him with false innocence. Her words had been carefully chosen, but it was still enough of an insult that it reminded him she wasn't an easy target and he wasn't the worst thing she'd ever come across. Her point made, she turned back to the book to translate the next set of glyphs before her.

"You expect to face the fiercest creature in the land with a book," Alistair continued to tease her.

Claude chimed in too, adding "maybe she means to bore it to death." The others erupted in laughter.

They were wrong about that. The Yaoguai was not the fiercest creature in the land. She'd already faced that and lived to tell the tale, even if it was only a half life. She forced the thought away and told herself not to think about him. She should just keep translating, they laughed now, but it was her they'd be thanking when they knew how much they needed her and this book. They would regret ever considering getting rid of her.

"It will tell us how to find the Yaoguai" she shouted over their laughter. It silenced them and they turned so they could hear her. She was sick of being seen as useless. It amazed her how unintelligent these men were. They could be experts in swordsmanship and hunting but it wouldn't do any good if they didn't know where the creature was in the first place. Didn't they see that?!

She turned back to the book. But instead of leaving her alone Alistair suddenly tore it from her hands. She gritted her teeth together and she looked straight ahead, trying to control her temper, to remember that yelling at them wouldn't help anything, it would only get her kicked off the wagon was wrong. He was worse than Gaston. At least he had never grabbed at her possessions and mocked her.

"These are just scribbles," Alistair pointed out, reminding her of that long ago time when they were children and Gaston had asked her how she could read when there were no pictures. Her anger flared again at his ignorance. Then again, maybe it would be better if this was a task she could do by herself. At least she wouldn't have to deal with them or their behavior all day long.

She grabbed the book back from him. "It's called another language," and this time she found herself hoping he was insulted. Her temper was wearing thin but after a glimpse back she realized he was staring at her with some interest. Finally she'd gotten him to see reason "and one that I know how to translate," she added turning back to the so called scribbles, realizing she had stumbled upon an important section and as soon as she translated it she would know exactly where to find the creature. "Huh!" she said drawing Alistair in further. She wished she didn't need them to slay the beast for her, because with this information she felt like she could go after it on her own. But it was a silly idea. She would die, surely. She'd never handled a sword and the small dagger she'd gotten from the supplies wouldn't be enough…would it?

"What?" he asked, looking over her shoulder distracting her from her courageous dreams of grandeur.

She closed the book and set it in her lap. "Nothing, just scribbles," she answered purposefully getting on his nerves and giving him a taste of his own medicine.

It appeared to have worked, "We're here to protect the land girl," he said in a chastising voice, the anger for her clear in his voice at the world "girl". She wanted to correct him, to tell him that she'd lived already more than most women her age ever would in a lifetime. But she kept the thought to herself. She was not a girl. She was a young woman capable of more than what any of the men in her life, past or present, thought. Suddenly her earlier thoughts didn't seem so ridiculous. What was a beast compared to what she'd already faced? She could do this. She could be a hero. "That book tells us where to go you shall share it with us," Alistair insisted.

She looked back at him proudly. She'd arrived at where she wanted to-convincing him that she had important information. Only suddenly she was wondering if this was where she really wanted to be after all. And there was something else. She didn't like the look on Alistairs face. It told her that she had overstepped, and she had finally over stayed her welcome. A small family farm caught her eye and she could see him glance quickly over to it as well. To him it was much more than a family farm, it was their ticket to good fortune. It wouldn't be as smooth as they'd hoped, but at least they wouldn't leave her alone. Her time was up, it was written plain as day on his face. If not now then it would be, as soon as she gave up that information. And if she refused then it would definitely be sooner rather than later, then her heroic dreams would be over before they ever really got started.

She looked at the path unfurling behind the wagon. Maybe there was a third option. They were stronger, and could track better. It was silly. They would beat her there before she even figured out where she was. But, maybe if she chose her words a little more carefully…She turned the sentence she'd just translated over in her head again and again. It would be a shame if she mistranslated one of the symbols…for them at least. But it might actually give her the time she needed to get ahead of them, to find the Yaoguai on her own and figure out a way to kill it herself. She sighed, her mind made up, "it says we'll find the Yaoguai by the lake," she offered, loud enough so that they could all hear her instructions clearly.

"The lake you say," Alistair verified with interest.

"Yes," she set the book down beside her, trying to figure out her next move, the next step to enact this plan that she had forming in her mind.

"You heard her Claude, we're going to the lake!" she heard Alistair call over his shoulder.

Suddenly she felt a boot at her back and the cart beneath her vanished as she hit ground with an unprepared thud. She watched them go on without her. She had known they were going to leave her but she hadn't expected for them not even to stop the cart! Or that they'd take her belongings with them. "Wait!" she called as they moved on. That book was her only chance, she needed it back.

As if reading her thoughts Alistair picked up the book and tossed it into the air calling "don't forget your book," in a final taunting voice.

It landed beside her and she could hear them laugh as she reached out to grab the important object. With relief she stood up again and began brushing herself off, the rest she could bear to part with, but so long as she had this book, and the dust Dreamy had given her, she wasn't without hope. Nevertheless she opened the book and found the passage that she had been examining only moments ago. Nervously she double checked the glyphs just to make sure that she had read them correctly. She smiled to herself when she saw that she had. "Enjoy the lake!" she called after them, making a final jest of her own, before looking back at the glyphs. "The Yaoguai prefers mountain habitats to all others" she smiled looking at the picture of a dark cave etched into the paper. They'd figure it out eventually, she had only bought herself time and nothing more. She'd have to hope that there would be courage that she could pick up between here and there.


	26. Two Women, a Sword, and a Book

Fortunately there had been a family of farmers where the caravan had dumped her, and they were able to give her the directions that she needed. Once she had a general idea of where she was going, she was able to hike into the mountains and with the help of the book in her hand track the beast all afternoon. Now she stood outside a cave, which, if she was reading the glyphs correctly, was either a place where the Yaoguai lived now or had lived. And that wasn't all that the book had told her. It pointed out a particular weakness that the creature had, a way to destroy the beast.

"The Yaoguai hibernates by day and hunts by night," she read aloud one more time, making sure the words were actually there and not an invention of her mind. She closed her book and looked at the cave before her. With a deep sigh she tried to think about what to do next, how to approach this. This beast wasn't like the last one that she'd fought...

She shook her head, telling herself once again that she couldn't think about him, that she wouldn't! He'd had his chance and hadn't taken it, she wasn't going to dwell on it. Here and now, she needed all her attention to be on that cave and the beast that was before her.

"Please be asleep," she muttered looking into the dark cave. She couldn't see anything. But was it her imagination or was there a deep rhythmic breathing coming from inside? She took a few timid steps forward and pulled the dagger from the leather sheath at her side. She wished she had a sword but if the creature was asleep then she wouldn't need anything grandiose, she just needed to get the job done. Her heart hammered harder against her chest with every step as she moved closer and closer and…

Snap!

A branch broke beneath her boot. In a moment of panic she listened carefully hoping that it had only appeared louder to her because she was nervous and scared. But then a loud roar echoed from within the dark cavern ahead of her. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it might not be beating any more at all. Now she was in trouble! She ran, to nowhere in particular her legs just getting the message to get out alive while her brain was still working on what to do next. She had to get away from here, she had to find shelter, somewhere the creature wouldn't find her. But as she glanced behind her she saw a giant dog-like animal race out of the cave with long talons and massive teeth bounding after her. And those weren't even its most terrifying features. For her, the mane of fire was the most startling thing of all. Even when the book had described the beast to her in perfect detail she hadn't been prepared for actually seeing it in the flesh.

It distracted her from looking forward and before she knew what had happened she tripped and landed flat on her belly. The world was suddenly too fast and too still at the same time. She heard the monster roar from somewhere close behind her and just as she was expecting her death to come it was was suddenly in front of her, teeth bared flames hot against her skin, a threatened and angry roar deafening her ears. This was it, this was the end!

Suddenly an arrow whizzed by the creature coming from out of nowhere, it scared her almost as much as the beast did. But she never took her eyes off the Yaoguai. It took off, but instead of back in the direction it came from, it ran frightened into the woods, away from its hiding place. She fought to hold back terrified and grateful tears knowing that she was probably the luckiest person in the world right now. She should have been dead, but there she was alive and well. Terrified, perhaps, but still breathing, heart still pounding, and feeling like the stupidest girl on the face of the planet.

She had thought that if she could face Rumpelstiltskin then she wouldn't fear anything else in the world. She was wrong yet again. She let the wave of panic wash over her and then heard footsteps. Something or someone was with her in the woods approaching her. In her panic she had nearly forgotten the arrow that had saved her life; someone had to have fired it! Was it him, had he come to save her? Or had the men in the caravan finally caught up with her? She would hate to think of their taunts now if they had to save her from her own stupid belief she could ever do this on her own. She wasn't a warrior, she was a Princess turned maid with grand visions of heroism and true love. And she never should have started this journey in the first place. She should have stayed right where she had been in that inn reading books by day and drinking at night. That would have been much safer.

She risked a glance and turned back to see her savior running over to her. To her delight she realized it was neither him nor them. She couldn't tell who it was. The warrior wore a mask over his face, clunky official looking leather armor, and a red cape concealing a sword, knife, and bow and arrow. And those were just the weapons she could see! A man like this probably had more hidden elsewhere. She stood up quickly, just because this man had saved her life didn't mean that he was a friend, and she didn't want to be defenseless against two dangers in this wood. But as she turned back to face her hero a strange sight met her eyes. The person had removed their mask and it wasn't a man at all. It was a girl, a woman, with beautiful olive skin and long black hair tied back so it stayed out of her way, the color and design of her clothes let on that she was one of the people native to this part of the world.

The girl politely offered her a hand to help steady her and she took it gratefully before looking down at herself and brushing her clothing free of the soil that was on them. She had to try not to stare in shock. She hadn't been prepared to meet another woman, much less one that carried a sword. But no matter who the stranger was or her gender it didn't matter. She was alive. And that was the important thing. "However can I thank you!" she said gratefully, the girl stared back at her looking just as surprised as she did at the person she had saved, maybe she wasn't expecting a woman either. "You saved my life," she added, stating the obvious.

"And you ruined my hunt," the woman responded, a flash of anger in her look of sympathy and bewilderment. "It took me weeks to track the Yaoguai here."

She grabbed her book, a small moment of excitement passing through her. The words caught her attention. So they had a common interest. She was hunting the Yaoguai too. As she looked the woman up and down taking in once again the weapons the official armor she was wearing, a thought crossed her mind. What did she need of men who would tease her maliciously all day long and make hasty threats and rude jokes at night? But another woman, one that knew how to use a sword, now that was something that could work to her advantage. And maybe someone who could read ancient "scribbles", as Alistair had called them, was someone who could be of benefit to this woman as well. "I, uh," she took a calming breath, her voice now too low "I found it in a day," she muttered brushing the earth off the book.

The woman looked her up and down her eyes looking to the sheath at her hip and resting on the book in her hands "you had luck on your side" she concluded confidently, but deep down she wondered if the woman wasn't just fishing for information like Alistair had. Even if she was, she'd rather tell this woman her secrets than the band of ignorant boys she'd been with.

"No, not luck," she corrected looking down at the small informant in her hands, did the woman know what it was? "It was this," the stranger looked at the book with confusion but also interest. That was exactly what she wanted. It was a hunch, but she could feel it, she was confident. Together they would make a great team, she just knew it, they were two sides of the same coin "I could, uh, I can help you find it again," she offered boldly. They could do this! They could both be heroes. Decorated as she appeared to be she had been after the Yaoguai too, and she thought that maybe here, even with her great skills, she was still just a woman. Maybe she wanted to be more than her gender too?

But as quickly as the words were out of her mouth the woman lifted her head to look her in the eye "You've done enough damage already" she spat back at her, the interest disappearing from her eyes. Then again maybe she would be exactly like the men on the caravan had been. She took a few steps forward, "if you really want to help," she offered, her voice full of spite and anger "stay out of my way." And with that she walked away and ran quickly into the woods after the Yaoguai, disappearing into the fog.

She felt a deep surge of disappointment at the words. "When two people both have something the other wants a deal can always be struck!" his playful voice filled her head, whether she wanted it too or not. She'd heard him repeat it dozens of times while she was listening to him make his precious deals. By his theory this transaction should have gone smoothly. So what had she done wrong? Maybe bragging about how fast she'd been able to locate a creature it had taken the girl a week to hunt down wasn't the best way to begin?

She looked around her for a moment, her opportunity gone. She needed to leave. She was alone, defenseless against an angry Yaoguai running lose in the woods. She searched the woods around her picking up her dagger from where it had dropped to the ground in her sprint. She'd seen a town not far from here on her hike; maybe she could rustle up some food, get some water, and try to figure out another way to kill the beast on her own. This would work out, she had to believe that it would, because if she didn't have the courage to face this beast, what did she have?


	27. A Deal Can Always be Struck

She'd gotten into the little village with no problems. And now that she was here the only thing she really wanted after her long and useless trek through the forest was a drink of water. She hadn't thought to take any with her when she had left that family after the caravan had abandoned her. With her throat dry and parched, she regretted that decision. As soon as she'd spotted the well she heaved a sigh and marched straight over to it as fast as she could while still trying not to look desperate. Eagerly she lowered the bucket and pulled back the weight of glorious, wet, cool water. It was almost in her hands when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and one at her leg and before she had time to react she had been lifted off her feet and was staring down the long tunnel of the well.

She gave a shriek and tried to find a place, a notch, a ledge, any where she could put her hands so that she didn't fall down and meet a very unsatisfying death. But the well was too large and she couldn't stabilize herself. She tried to look behind her but couldn't clearly see the face of the man holding her life in the balance. Who was doing this to her? Why would anyone want to hurt her?

"The Yaoguai wasn't at the lake," said the angry voice of Alistair. Her heart pounded against her chest and from the corner of her eye she turned to see him standing by her side, or rather the side of the man holding her over the well.

Yes, they had reason to be angry at her, but not reason enough to kill her. Unfortunately she didn't think they saw it that way it right now. She wanted to be away from them, to run, but that meant she had to get both feet on the ground first, and she didn't think they would agree to release her that easily. She took a deep breath, she was beginning to feel light-headed. "I'm sorry, I must, I must have misread that one" she said, coming up with the first thing that popped into her head. Telling them she had led them astray on purpose was not an option, not in her current predicament. It might just be the piece of information they were looking for to toss her to her death. It must be nice to have strength, instead of a useless physical trait like beauty, or even the ability to translate different languages. She'd trade both of those for strength in a heartbeat right now.

"Mmm," Alistair leaned down next to her casually, like they were having a polite conversation at a tavern. "Do you want to know what I think happened? I think you sent us in the wrong direction on purpose," she glanced over at him, his face lined with curious anger. She hadn't thought that he'd be able to put two and two together; Gaston wouldn't have been able to. Maybe she couldn't read people as well as she thought she could. She didn't know what to say, what to offer, or beg for to get them to release her. But she didn't have to.

Just as she was beginning to think that was going to pass out from the headache building in her skull, a rope wrapped itself around Alistair's neck and he crashed to the ground, out of sight. Behind him she could just make out the same mysterious woman that she had met in the forest; the one who had saved her earlier. Had she followed her here? But she had no time to ask questions, the man who had been holding her, Claude as it turned out, put her down and she had to grab the well to keep from toppling over as the woman advanced on the men. "Let her go," the woman demanded, and although she couldn't see anymore than her eyes through her helmet, it sounded like she had her teeth clenched.

"This isn't your fight soldier!" Alistair called. Her blurring vision was starting to clear and she could see him there, still on his hands and knees trying to recover from whatever it was she'd thrown at him. She knew that she had more weapons than what she had seen.

But the woman didn't stop her threatening advance. Suddenly Claude pulled out his own sharp dagger. The woman looked at it with interest but not with fear. He moved to attack her, once, twice, several times, but each and every time she blocked his offenses not even needing to pull out her own sword. She made the trained mercenary look like a child. Finally she wrestled him to the ground with enough force to make her helmet fly off her head. "Wait!" Claude exclaimed, looking at her shocked. "You're a…" but she punched him in the face with so much force his skull cracked against the stone beneath him.

"Yeah, I know!" she replied angrily as the man clutched his head painfully. She stood and turned drawing her own sword, daring someone to attack her, to defend the men. Not surprisingly, no one did. If she'd done that much with her bare hands no one wanted to see what she could do with a blade. "Go!" she ordered, the pair of foolish men quickly got to their feet and left without another word. When they were well on their way she felt another wave of gratitude wash over her. The woman didn't have to help her, didn't have to save her, and yet she had. Twice in the same day! And she was amazing, every bit the warrior that she looked. It was a shame that the woman didn't want her help. They really would have made an excellent team against the Yaoguai.

"I um, didn't expect to see you again," she commented as the woman sheathed the unused sword. She glanced over once again to the men who were looking smaller and smaller with every step they took. She was alive and they were gone, what more could she ask for? She turned back to the woman. "Thank you," she said for the second time that day. And for a moment she wondered if she would forever be thanking people for saving her life, instead of doing it for others, or herself.

The woman stared off into the distance, watching the shrinking forms of the men like she was making sure they were really leaving as she had ordered. "I had to put up with brutes like them when I served in the emperors army," she said with a certain sense of pride, correcting her posture with a shoulder roll and a proud smile. She deserved it. It couldn't have been easy for a woman to serve in the army. She couldn't help but admire the woman, she knew what she wanted and she went after it. Unlike her. She knew what she wanted. She just had no idea how to get it when she was met by obstacle after obstacle. Not to mention the fact that what she wanted most in the world didn't want her back. "Fools, who think we have no business holding a sword," she added, putting a strange emphasis on the "we". "I only wish there was someone there to stand up for me," she admitted. She was about to ask what had happened to her when no one had come to her aid but she was suddenly distracted by something and looked downward. She gave a strange sigh and reached between her boot and leg. Her gloved hand came away wet. Blood!

"You're, uh, you're bleeding," she was surprised, she didn't think Claude had been able to lay a hand on her, much less a blade, had she missed it? Or perhaps it was an old injury? She felt a stab of guilt as she looked at the sticky substance. No matter how she had gotten it, it was the result of her successful attempts to protect her. The injury was her fault.

But the woman didn't seem to take much notice. "I'll survive," she said, straightening and paying the injury no mind. She turned her attention skyward and wiped her hand against her belt. "The sun should be setting soon," she commented "we need to move out," she said in an official tone, and turned quickly on her heel and to gather up her helmet.

"What, what do you mean 'we'" she asked, trying not to get her hopes up. Had she really said what she thought that she'd said? Or was her mind still recovering from the rush of blood to the head. Was she taking her up on her offer then? Did she really want them to work together to kill the Yaoguai? Or was she referring to someone else.

The woman turned back to her "You tracked the Yaoguai in a matter of hours," she explained "it took me weeks! You track the beast, and I'll kill it."

Hope filtered through her frayed nerves. Was this really happening? Was she really getting her wish? What had caused this sudden change of mind in her? Hadn't she saved her twice in one day, didn't she consider her useless? "When two people both have something the other wants a deal can always be struck," she pushed the thoughts and his voice from her head, why was she over thinking this! The woman had turned her down once, it was best to take her up on the offer before it passed by again. "I'd be honored to help you," she said trying to straighten her shoulders and look more like a strong and capable woman instead of the feeble broken-hearted one she felt like nowadays. Maybe this would bring some sense of meaning back into her life.

She took hold of the book that had been resting on the well and together the two women filled skins of water and an old man at a cart offered them some provisions free of charge, from the smile that passed between the two of them she wondered if they knew each other. If this was her village it would explain the man, her protective instinct for everyone, and why no one dared to help the men or attack her.

And then, while her mind was still processing everything that had happened, they were off, heading back into the forest she'd come from. "I'm Belle, by the way," she said.

"Mulan," she answered in a friendly tone, but still trying to keep the pace up despite her leg injury. "So, where do we go from here?" she asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly. She liked this woman, she had a goal and she was focused on it. So much so that there was no room for anything outside of catching the Yaoguai, not even time for proper introductions. She liked that. With purpose, she opened the book in her hand with a smile, then put her nose back into it and began figuring out their next move.


	28. History Can Repeat Itself

"It's just ahead" she said leading Mulan down a hill, hoping she wouldn't trip over another rock or stick in the dark night. It had taken them longer to get here than expected, but now that they were here, now that they'd managed to track the beast again she didn't want anything to hinder them anymore. Who knew what damage the creature would do with another night of freedom? And, to be honest, she was looking forward to returning to the small village, but not because they would be heroes, that recognition would come later. For now all she wanted from the town was a hardy meal and a nice soft bed to sleep in. At the moment everything else in the world suddenly paled in comparison to food and sleep.

"That book served you well" Mulan commented as they came upon the ridge. They stared down and a terrible sight met their eyes. They were too late. Through a clearing in the trees they could see down to a field below. The Yaoguai had set fire to it. It was awake, and bound to cause terror in the neighboring village and trouble for anyone stupid enough to challenge the beast when it was fully rested. As much as they might want to it just wouldn't be safe to go after it now.

Suddenly Mulan heaved an irritated sigh and she turned just in time to see her reach down into her boot. She held her foot at an odd angle, like putting her full weight on it was painful. She'd been trying to hide it since they started but she had noticed her slowing as she had taken the lead instead and could feel the trembling of her leg as she rested her hand on her knee trying to get a glimpse of the injury. "Mulan, your legs getting worse," she insisted. She wished she knew how to help, but the only thing she knew about injuries was that they needed plenty of rest. But the soldier wouldn't rest, she couldn't, it seemed. Instead she only stood tall again and looked down at the fire in the field with a determined look on her face.

"I have to protect my village," she said with a confident nod as the helmet clattered to the ground. Mulan took a few steps down the hill, a faithful warrior marching into battle. But then she fell. She reached out and caught her before she could hit the ground, but she knew that the leg couldn't support her weight anymore. Minds were strong and confident, bodies, however, could fail at the most inconvenient times.

"You can't even walk," she told her, hoping the stubborn woman would see reason. It wasn't safe to go after the beast while it was awake, going after it while it was awake and she was injured was so insane it was a suicide mission. The village needed her to save them, but if she was killed because she had been too weak to attack the monster then it was of no help to anybody. "How are you going to kill the Yaoguai?"

After a few moments of silence Mulan looked up "I'm not," she muttered, disappointment in her voice. She felt sorry for her, she did, but this wasn't the end. They would still kill the Yaoguai, they would just have to postpone it for a few days. They could wait until her leg was better, then track it down one day at first night and slay it during the day as the creature slept. It was a good plan. She was ready to turn around, try to find somewhere safe to spend the night before going back to the village tomorrow to tend to Mulan's wound. But the girl onlyturned and looked at her "You are!" she declared, like it was obvious, but her stomach gave a nervous fearful flop. Was she suggesting what she thought she was?

"Me?" She was crazy. That was the only explanation for it. Or Claude had hit her head too and not just injured her leg! She was the brain of this team not the brawn. She was no soldier, she didn't even want to try to kill the Yaoguai during the night. She'd been too scared. All she had managed was to try and sneak up on it in its sleep! "I'm, I'm," she stuttered trying to find her words as Mulan gained her footing and stood up to full height "I'm not a soldier," she pointed out to her. But Mulan shook her head at her protests.

"You have good instincts. You tracked that beast faster than I ever could."

"Tracking it and killing it are not the same thing," she pointed out to her. They were two very distinct, very different, things. One she could do. The other….She glanced down at the fire in the field. No, she really couldn't do what she was suggesting.

Mulan swallowed and looked down at her from her spot on the hill "There was once a time when people didn't think that I had what it took, but I proved them wrong" she explained as seriously as if she was talking about death. Then again maybe she was…hers.

But then, there was an interesting story there. How did a woman become part of the emperor's army? Certainly that hadn't been something that was just handed to her. And she had mentioned something about the men giving her hard time when she served. And yet she must have succeeded. And then some. It was her out here after all, protecting her village, guarding her people. Where were all those so called brutes now?

"How?" she asked eagerly, wondering how she had managed to convince them otherwise, but also how she had managed to find a place that was perfect for her. She was born to be a soldier, she could just tell. It was something that gave Mulan purpose in life. Right now, she would try anything to have a purpose again, but she couldn't feel that purpose if she was dead? Was there another way that she hadn't considered? Was there a way to convince the world that she was capable of doing what they didn't think she was? Whether it was killing a Yaoguai, or convincing a man that she had the ability to love him, she wanted to show people that she had what it took.

"By showing them that I had the warrior spirit," she answered "once I found something worth fighting for I fought for it with everything that I had, I never gave up." She didn't know what it was that had happened in this girl's past, but she wished she had her bravery. Belle had found something wonderful that few people in the entire world would ever be lucky enough to possess. And instead of fighting for it, she'd run. Now she was trying to fill the emptiness that choice had created by fighting for something she wasn't entirely sure she was willing to give her life up for at the end of the day. Her search for a purpose had backfired. She couldn't rewrite who she was on a whim. She wasn't a soldier. She wasn't a warrior, or a princess, or a barmaid. At the end of the day she was still just a caretaker. Whether he liked it or not, she was still his true love.

"Belle," Mulan whispered, carrying her thoughts away from the castle her heart still seemed to reside in. "The fate of my village depends on you," she whispered, reminding her that if she let the Yaoguai go until morning came and it rested again, or until Mulan was healthy enough to defeat it, then lives would be at risk.

Scared as she was, as lacking in bravery that she was, she couldn't let that happen. She'd saved her village once, which was all that Mulan wanted to do. She could relate to that, in fact thinking of it that way somehow made it easier. Saving villages was something she was good at, it might not be her purpose in life, but she'd done it once, maybe she would get lucky and do it again. Seeing her defenses falling Mulan reached to her belt and held the sword out for her. "Don't be afraid," Mulan told her, and she found her arm reaching out automatically to take the sword from her.

"I'm not," she answered. And she was shocked to find that it was the truth. She wasn't afraid of giving up her life to save the village. She'd already done that once, and that time the beast had threatened to kill everything that she was and everything that she held dear. She hadn't survived that time. So what if she didn't survive this time? At least she would go down fighting. At least she would make a sacrifice that would be remembered.

She handed her book over to her, and before her courage ebbed Mulan pointed out a place by the ridge and told her to meet her there after it was done, she would light a fire for her to find it. She nodded and with a final "Go, now! Hurry, before it's too late," she marched off down the hill, preparing once again to face a beast. It couldn't be worse than the last time.


	29. Becoming a Different Person

She wasn't sure how she had gotten here: watching the Yaoguai breathe fire into the field around her. It hadn't noticed her there yet, but it was only a matter of time before it spotted her and she'd be staring the deadly creature down yet again. The last time this had happened it wouldn't have ended well if it wasn't for Mulan and yet here she was on her own, no one to save her but herself. She bounced anxiously on her toes, trying to distract herself, trying not to think about the reasons why she shouldn't be here and focus on the reasons she should be. Squaring her shoulders she looked at the beast before her.

If this was going to happen, she may as well get it over with. If she survived she'd be the hero she always dreamed about, and she wondered what Rumpelstiltskin would think when he found out what she'd done. Would he be angry she'd done something so risky? Happy that she'd done what she'd always dreamed of? Or maybe he just would refuse to hear the news and not care? And then there was the polar opposite: what if she died? Well then she'd never feel the pain of a broken heart again, but how would he feel when he found out. Probably he would be thankful, relieved even. Sometimes she couldn't believe he'd released her into the world knowing the little about him that she did. She was a potential threat he'd let loose into the world. But she doubted if he knew that anything he'd told her she would take to the grave. His secrets, his actions, his heat, all would die with her. And knowing him, he'd think that was a good thing.

She took a deep breath again, clearing her head. She couldn't let anything distract her, not even thoughts of him. She needed to stay focused on the task at hand. It was now or never. "Here! Over here!" she called waving her arms over her head. The beast looked over at her, targeting her, locking in on her. Well she had its attention at least, now she just had to survive the next few minutes.

She ran, fast as she could, darting toward Mulan's town. At least there would be places to hide there if she needed them for defense. She could hear the Yaoguai pounding behind her the entire way. She focused on her breathing, on the pounding of her heart, anything but the terror rising in her belly. She ran down the alley and into the town square. It was empty, completely devoid of all the people and the life that it had been filled with earlier. They were hiding. They had probably locked themselves away in their homes once they had seen how close the creature actually was to their village. It was a shame because she felt like she could really use the help.

She ran across the square and stopped at a tower of pipes, used for water, blocking her way. She looked behind her, the Yaoguai rounded the corner, the fiery mane lighting the dark alley she had just run down. Now it starred her down, looking at her like she would be only too easy to kill. But she wasn't going to go down without a fight and she pulled the heavy sword from her belt. It was a useless action, she couldn't think of what to do with a sword, she'd never even held one before. And she needed something more than an empty gesture of defiance if she wanted to survive. There had to be something, anything, she'd read that book cover to cover something in there had to be helpful to her now! The Yaoguai stalked slowly toward her, his fiery red eyes focused on her…

That was it. Fire!

The water behind her!

She felt a tug start on her mouth and realized she was smiling with pride. Maybe she stood a chance at surviving the day. She saw the creature lunge to pounce on her and in the blink of an eye she spun around hitting the pipe as hard as she could with the blade.

Water poured out and hit the beast full force. With a sizzle and hiss the creatures mane went out in a puff of smoke and it lay on the ground before her, weak, injured, an easy target. She should be able to kill it easily. A sword to the heart and it would be done. But then she watched it struggle. The blaze in its eyes was extinguished and replaced with fear. Something stirred in her chest and she couldn't help but feel sorry for the animal. It was causing terror, true, but did that really mean it had to die by her hand. It would be too weak to hurt anyone now. Why couldn't she just let it go? Mulan could come back for it later.

The creature gave a groan of anguish and suffering. She was confused. She didn't know what to do. Free it, or kill it. She wanted to be a hero but not the kind of hero that killed to get recognition. That wasn't who she was. And if she was going to sacrifice who she was for someone that she wasn't sure she should be that seemed a step backwards to her. She wanted to be a hero based on who she was. Anything else would just be a lie.

What was the answer?

But then something caught her attention. As she watched the creature, she noticed it doing something unnatural for an injured animal. It was swiping its claw across the stones, but there was a pattern to its motions. The claw was leaving black marks in its place, symbols. And they weren't random or accidental. They were clear and full of purpose. "You're, you're writing something," she observed with confusion. No this was defiantly not normal animal behavior, and she couldn't remember anything in the book telling her that the Yaoguai could read or write. So, how had it learned to do this? And what exactly was it writing anyway? She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out what it was trying to tell her. "Tsuea," she muttered coming up with the word that matched the characters. "Save me," she translated, astonished.

The beast looked at her, like it understood what she had said. The look begged her for something. Mercy? Favor? Help. "You need help," she sheathed her sword; she didn't need it. But she did need something else. She didn't think that she could trust Rumpelstiltskin to fix this for her, even if she could figure out a way to get the beast safely back to his castle. And anyway she didn't trust his magic. Dark magic, as the dwarf had called it, had let her down more than its fair share. But good magic, like the kind he'd given her, the magic she carried with her now, that might be exactly what was needed.

She pulled the pouch from her belt, thankful that she had known to keep it on her persons at all times and it hadn't disappeared with the caravan. Pulling on the fabric she opened it up, peering at the glittery substance inside. "Let's, uh, let's give this a try, shall we?" She didn't know how much to use, how much it would take to help him, although with as big as the creature was she figured that more was better than less. Hoping her plan wouldn't backfire, and reignite the fiery mane, she upended the bag and poured the glowing purple over the Yaoguai's body. As she watched, it was suddenly enveloped in thick purple smoke, and she lost sight of him as it drifted upward. She stood back, prepared to run if she had to. But when the smoke cleared, she saw not the Yaoguai on the ground but a man, drenched from the water she'd poured over him. He coughed and sputtered as he pushed himself back and stared at his hands like he couldn't believe he was human. He wasn't the only one. He was a man. The Yaoguai had been a person all along! No wonder he needed help!

"The curse," he looked up at her, thankfulness and relief written all over his face "you broke it".

She had? Really? It took a moment, but finally everything seemed to click into place, and the words sunk into her. She'd broken a beast's curse?! She had done it! She'd saved another village and turned a beast into a man again. And she didn't have to forfeit herself to do it either! The words were ones that she wanted to hear so badly. But then why didn't they make her feel whole again?

She shook her head slightly, there was a man before her who needed help, not her own disappointed reflections on an empty life. She reached down and helped the man to his feet, a million questions racing through her mind. "Someone, someone did this to you?" she asked nervously, hoping that his name wouldn't echo from the man's mouth. She didn't know if she could handle that right now, but even she had to admit, something like this screamed Rumpelstiltskin.

The man nodded as he stood straight and tall again "Maleficent," he breathed, a name she, thankfully, did not know. "An evil sorceress in my kingdom, determined to do everything in her power to keep me away from Aurora, my true love," he explained with a wistful, but confident, sigh. It must be nice to be so sure about true love. "So she exiled me to this land, and turned me into a monster," he continued "I tried to warn the villagers, but no one understood what I really was," he gave a little laugh and looked her up and down "except you!"

She smiled at him, there would be a happy ending to his story after all. She had done that, all because she hadn't given in, because she'd fought for something others would have called her crazy for. And it had been something worth fighting for after all. Just not the right thing for her. "Well, you're not the first beast I've faced," she muttered, but instead of chasing his image from her mind she allowed it to stay. To fill her up, and remind her of that feeling she'd had when she'd been with him and everything had been good between them. Now that was a feeling worth fighting for.

"I am forever, in your debt, please," Phillip continued, nursing an injury on his chest "tell me how I might repay you."

Rumple's face fled from her mind and the thought of Mulan also wounded and alone in the woods brought her back to reality. "My friend's hurt," she blurted out "she needs a doctor," she watched him hold his side painfully and picked up on the cue with ease "as do you. Help me bring her back to the village," she requested.

"It will be my honor," he responded formally "Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Prince Phillip," he said managing a small bow of respect to her. She should have figured, all that was missing to his story was for him to have been a Prince. In her days at the castle she had heard of Prince Phillip and his family but never had she actually met them. They lived to far away and their kingdoms didn't often have reason to communicate with each other. "Belle," she responded fighting the old habit to introduce herself as "princess" and give the polite curtsy she'd been brought up to give her whole life around royalty.

She didn't waste time, she led him out of the village and back down the alley as fast as she could move with him and a sword tied to her belt. He didn't seem to recognize her name, or her true identity. Why would he? She wasn't that person anymore, the one he'd seen when he first arrived at her father's palace. She was a different person, a different breed. Princesses didn't fight monsters and break curses. They didn't read books and sit in on war council meetings with interest. And they definitely didn't dream about going back into the clutches of danger to have their hearts broken all over again.

Yes, she was different now.


	30. A Mind Made Up

She trekked up the mountain with Phillip to the place where Mulan had told her that they would meet. She didn't know anything about medicine. She'd read hundreds of books and not one of them could help her with Phillip or Mulan. He didn't appear to be badly injured, but it was enough that she could see him wince on occasion when he turned the wrong way or the hill got too steep. They were nearly there when she saw him do it out of the corner of her eye yet again. It made her nervous, being in the presence of someone who needed help but being unable to provide that help. First thing she was going to do when she got back was ransack her library for a book on medicine or health so that this would never happen again…

She stopped dead in her tracks.

When she got back?

The thought chased her breath out of her lungs. When had she decided that she was going back? She couldn't be sure. She was certain that when she had left Mulan she was determined not to go back to that castle ever again. If he didn't want her then it was his loss. But it wasn't, not really, it was her loss as well. That ache that she felt, the sorrow, the indifference to everything around her, it came from not being with him. She could try to cover the feelings up, to swallow them down and pretend that she didn't notice them, but they would always be there. By casting her out he'd sentenced her to a lifetime of pain and misery. She had discovered a freedom with him that she'd never known before, she had discovered a part of herself she'd never known before, and this adventure paled in comparison to the person she was with him. Was she really going to let him make a decision that affected her life this much?! That made her this miserable? That made them both this miserable? He had to be suffering from it too. Whether he liked it or not she was his true love, and that meant he was feeling the same things that she was. He might be better at hiding them, but no doubt he was feeling them too. Could she really allow them both to suffer like this?

No! She wouldn't stand for it. Not anymore. She didn't know when she'd decided, but it didn't matter. She was going back, she was going home. She'd broken him down once before, he wouldn't hurt her, he wasn't capable of it, she would stay whether he was happy about it or not and maybe one day he'd find that she really was more important than his power. Maybe one day he'd see that she really could love him despite his past and present.

"Belle," suddenly she felt Phillips hand gently at her back. "Are you alright?" he asked, looking concerned.

Alright? She was wonderful, the best that she'd been for months. That empty place that she'd had since she had left was suddenly filling up. Yes, she'd freed a beast. Yes, she'd become a hero. But none of that mattered. It wouldn't matter unless it was her beast, unless someday she was his hero. If she could have she would have left that very moment, let her heart take her back to him. But she couldn't, she had to finish this first, on her own terms. She was so close to the end! She would be on her way soon enough.

"Fine," she responded with a smile to Phillips inquiry. She took a deep whiff through her nose and smelled ash. For a moment she stared at Phillip, wondering if the magic hadn't lasted, if it was possible for him to turn back into the Yaoguai, then she remembered that Mulan had said something about building a fire to help her find her way. She picked up the pace again, she really was very close "my, my friends over that ridge," she said pointing it out to him. As they rounded a group of trees she could see the light up ahead and Mulan sitting on a fallen log by it, looking at her book on the Yaoguai. "There she is," she muttered.

At her voice Mulan shut the book and managed to stand and walk over to the pair of them. She still limped but it appeared that the long rest had helped her. A wide smile spread over her face "Belle," she said reaching out for her shoulders in a friendly happy gesture. "You're alive!" she said, and for a moment her heart threatened to drop. Had she sent her to kill the Yaoguai really thinking that she wouldn't come back alive! She should have felt insulted, angry even, but instead let the comment pass. It was no matter. She was alive, and nothing, not even a dark thought like that could bring her down from this high that she was feeling.

"I, uh, I did it," she said triumphantly "I defeated the Yaoguai," she looked across to Phillip there beside her "with a little help," she didn't want to think of what would become of him if she hadn't recognized his writing, if he hadn't been smart enough to keep leaving the messages, believing that someone would figure it out eventually. There would be a woman out there always wondering, forever suffering, because he never came home. It would have been her fault and she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing that she was the cause of a separation between two people truly in love. She was all too familiar with the feeling.

"Who are you," Mulan asked the stranger, looking him up and down, confusion in her face over the sudden strange appearance of the young man.

"I was the Yaoguai," he informed her, with a hint of humorous mystery in his voice.

Mulan looked back to her, seeking answers of some kind, of course she wanted answers, hadn't she wanted them too. But the excited flutter in her belly didn't want to explain it all, he could do that, she had somewhere to be, and she didn't want to waste anymore time. She wanted nothing more than curl up in her chair by the fire with a good book and the squeak of a spinning wheel in the distance. "He was cursed," she explained, giving the most basic explanation she could "so I helped him, now he's going to help you," she continued, knowing her voice sounded rushed. That was ok, she was in a rush.

But Mulan looked at her confused again "wait, you're not coming?" she asked, sounding genuinely upset at the prospect. Imagine, after all this time she'd finally managed to make a friend! Friends were good, and some day she might be able to seek the woman out again, she knew where to look now, but there was someone else that needed her attention far more right now.

"I have another beast to face," and it wasn't going to be pretty, but it was the right thing to do, she knew that now. She exchanged her sword for the book, trading her brawn for her brains again, the life of a hero for the life of a caretaker. It was a fair trade in her mind. Besides, strength, physical strength wasn't going to help her where she was going, but her mind would. He'd loved her for who she was on the inside once before she just needed to remind him of that. Excitement raced through her as she looked up at the woman, feeling like her old self again, maybe she'd even stop back at the library she'd worked at and retrieve her blue dress again. She was doing the brave thing, and hoping, that like before, bravery would follow. "Good-bye," she said finally to her friend.

"Good-bye, Belle," Mulan echoed. And with a final nod at Phillip she headed back up the road, back to where she came from.


	31. A Love Worth Fighting For

The fairy dust was gone, Philip was safely with Mulan, the town was saved and a thought that had been growing in her mind since she'd heard the Prince's story had been spoken. Now there was no other option for her. She did have another beast to face, and staying here any longer than she had wasn't going to accomplish that goal.

Book secure in her hand, she trekked up the steep soft hill, each step making her more and more determined. She'd made a mistake. Very few people in life ever found their true loves. In fact Philip had been the first that she could ever remember meeting. Everyone else, well, they wandered around missing the other half themselves trying to find things that could fill up the space in their hearts. She knew well, she had been doing it since she left that castle. She'd tried odd jobs, the bitter taste of the alcohol, and now the adventure and promise of heroism she'd always wanted to have. It would never be a perfect fit.

She could try harder of course. Find a nice young man and settle down, have a few children, be like everyone else who had never found their true love. She might be happy one day but she'd never be whole. And it would be unfair to him and to herself too. If she knew where her true love was, then she couldn't let anything stand in the way of their being together. And that included him.

She'd made a mistake. It hadn't been as easy as she'd thought it would be. Curses never were. But whatever was inside of him that was preventing him from giving himself over completely to her, well she'd gotten past that once before and she could do it again, she knew she could. He was the only thing that would ever let her feel like a real person again. A whole person. Odd jobs wouldn't keep her mind occupied, alcohol would lose its flavor, and one act of heroism didn't erase the mission that she had given up. She didn't want to be a hero in any other way if she couldn't be his.

And now she was ready to fight.

She could do this. She was capable of being a hero and fighting to the bitter end. The look on his face as she'd talked to him last, the pain and anguish, it all told her that he wasn't a lost cause. He did love her. She just had to show him that he did. And she had to show him that she was capable of loving him through every bit of rage, turmoil, and complication that he would throw at her. He had doubted that she could love him, and she had left. It only served to further his beliefs. It was a tragic mistake, made in the heat of the moment, but she couldn't live with the regret any more. Maybe he couldn't either. And now she would go back. She would stay whether he liked it or not. She would plant herself on the castle doorstep until he let her in if that's what it took.

At last she managed to climb to the top of the hill, but instead of looking at the battle that lay ahead of her she chose to look back at the city she had just left. It was safe because of her, because she'd been brave enough to be a hero, to fight for something she wasn' sure about. Imagine what she could do when she was sure. "I'm coming back Rumple!" she declared boldly to the night air. It was a mistake that she was going to rectify. And she wasn't going to waste another moment.

She smiled as she began the first steps forward on her journey.

"Isn't that sweet," a voice suddenly answered her in the darkness. She looked up. It felt like the blood had completely drained from her face as her smile vanished. She couldn't help it, her heart pounded against her chest. It was the woman she'd met on the road that day. If his guess was right, which he always was, not to mention the cohort she always traveled with, this wasn't just a woman. It was the Queen. The Evil Queen. "Still fighting for true love, even to the bitter end." It wasn't an encouraging voice, she was mocking her.

She felt a wave of anger rise up in her chest. This was all her fault. If she hadn't had that discussion with her, maybe she would have come to the conclusion on her own and everything would be alright. She was the last person on earth that she wanted to see. She hoped it wasn't a bad omen, but her one experience with her, and the fact that her blood felt like ice running through her veins, told her that her fears were probably well founded. Her impressions were right then and they were right now. "How did you find me?" she asked suspiciously.

"You really should be nicer to your traveling companions," she answered with the same falsely sweet smile she'd given her that day on the road. "Right Claude?" she asked looking over at a pair of men in her caravan. Claude and Alistair! The men that she had set in the wrong direction!

She was trying not to panic but her heart was racing. This couldn't be happening, not now! She felt like she should run, dive back down the hill to find Philip and Mulan, but she doubted that she'd make it in time. The Queen wasn't alone, and she as well as a few other guards were on horseback. She wouldn't make it far. Should she scream? No, that wouldn't work either. Mulan was injured and required help. They might hear her but by the time the pair of them made it up the hill she could be hurt, or dead, or worse. She saw the empty cart with bars on it being drawn by two horses. And she was pretty sure she knew what was meant to be put into it. Ideas. She needed more ideas, more options.

"Take her to the tower," the woman ordered. And suddenly once of the guards stepped forward and put an arm around her forcefully.

"What? No!" she cried "What are, what are you doing?!" she asked as she was forcibly dragged over to the cage on wheels. She tried to think of what to do, where to go, who to find. Every possibility came up short. Except one: Negotiation. "I, I can save him!" she yelled at the woman. She was here for a reason. She had been on that road for a reason. Rumpelstiltskin had reacted to her kiss against her for a reason. She could only assume that she wanted his power. Or that she wanted him to be powerless. Whatever her motivations were the Queen had once hoped that she could break the curse. Maybe she could appeal to her on that and then warn Rumpelstiltskin. If there was anything she had learned from her time with him it was that deals could always be made. "Let me go to him," she cried struggling against the guard "I, I can break his curse! I can…"

"You already tried and failed," the Queen insisted with a disappointed edge to her voice "That monsters beyond saving." Even in the clutches of evil her mind still rebelled at her words at the name she'd called him. "I'm saving you a lifetime of pain and misery," she added like she should feel grateful for being shoved unceremoniously into a prison cell. As the door slammed and locked behind her she stared at the evil witch riding the horse before her. Whatever she was planning, whatever reason she wanted her, it wasn't good. But this wasn't the end. She was determined to fix this. And nothing was going to stand in her way, not even being held captive. She would figure it out. She had to.

"You can't keep us apart forever!" she stated, clutching the bars. He loved her, he would come for her. For selfish reasons or for honorable ones he would show up and rescue her and then she could right the wrong. "I'll fight for him!" she called as she watched the woman nonchalantly turn the horse and gallop away. "I'll never stop fighting for him!" She called as the sound of the hoof beats faded and the cart jerked forward in the wrong direction.


	32. Not a Friend

She was tired of being a prisoner. No matter how good she had it while she was actually being held captive, it never ended well for her. But this time she knew that instead of being kicked out of the palace, her confinement would end in death. That thought was all that she kept coming back too. When? How? Why? Then again it wasn't like she had anything else to do, maybe that was how the Queen wanted her, board and constantly in a state of unknowing. Her day consisted of getting food, sleeping, writing that mark on the wall, and maybe, if she was feeling adventurous today, she'd walk around the circular tower. Just for the fun of it. It was an all time low as the cycle repeated itself, never ending: sit on a cot in the middle of an empty round room, think about her death, stare at the other end of the room, think about her death, count the marks that she made on the wall, think about her death….and so it went on and on.

She sighed and stared up at the ceiling, just for something different to look at. Sometimes she wished that the Evil Queen would just kill her and get it over with. Whatever she wanted, whatever she was planning, she wouldn't help her. She didn't know where Rumpelstiltskin was, or what he was doing while she was being imprisoned simply for loving him, but she was just as loyal today as the moment the Evil Queen had taken her captive. She would never say anything against Rumpelstiltskin, no matter what the Queen offered her. Nothing would ever, ever, make her betray his confidence. She'd worked hard to get it and now...now...now she sat in a dark tower, waiting for him to rescue her, hoping that he would.

She knew that he loved her, even if he didn't want to say the words. She had expected him to at least show up and make her a deal for her freedom, or a deal with her guards to turn their heads while she escaped, or the Queen, or anything! After all it was in his best interest. He wouldn't want anyone to have power over him and he should have been fearful even if she didn't know much. But it had been months and he hadn't come. Day after day she sat here, chained to the room, staring at the wall, the ceiling, her own shadow. Food, death, sleep, death, mark, death, walk, death. This was her life, and what a pitiful life it was. What a pitiful death it would be.

Suddenly the door to her chamber creaked open, and she startled. It wasn't dinner time just yet, and this wasn't one of the Queens guards, they approached her with masks. This man was dressed in black, but his face was exposed, revealing a youthful man she had never seen before. He looked at her eagerly, and her heart started to pound. She'd grown up reading remarkable fantasies, wishing she could have someone elses life, and the result was constantly hearing the warning to be careful what you she wished for. Was it time? Had her death finally arrived? Was this man here to kill her? "You must be Belle," he said shutting the door. In his hand was a nasty looking hook of some kind. Was that it? Was this how she would meet her death? On the end of a sharp point?!

"The Queen sent you, didn't she?" she stated boldly. "She wants you to kill me," she assumed holding back her tears. If this was her last chance to be brave then she was going to face it with dry eyes and a straight spine. An honorable death for the princess she was.

"I'm not here to kill you, love," so it was to be torture then. She would face it just as bravely, she just hoped that her body would hold out and that her brain would keep her mouth shut about Rumpelstiltskin. She couldn't let herself tell him anything. "I'm here to rescue you," he corrected.

She replayed the words in her mind as the man knelt before her and started fumbling with the chains around her ankle. "Rescue me?" The man took her by surprise. She hadn't expected anybody but him to come for her, and yet here was a stranger, offering her exactly what she longed for. Was it a trick? It certainly seemed to good to be true. But just as she braced herself for the possibility, the shackles once painfully tight around her ankles released for the first time since she'd been here. It felt wonderful just to feel the fresh air on her skin instead of the cold hardness of the chains. She was amazed, he really was going to rescue her. "Who are you?" she asked gently, offering her wrists to him as well. She wanted to assist him in any way possible. Especially since she now had a good look at his hand. He wasn't holding a hook, his hand was a hook. She would offer him any help that he needed so long as he could get her out of here and back to Rumpelstiltskin. Even if he didn't want to see her, he would know what to do to keep her safe so that this never happened again. He'd want to keep her out of harms way, if only for his own sake.

"A friend," he answered, refusing her his name. She just hoped that wasn't a hint of what would come of this relationship. "We haven't much time," he said getting to work on the shackles holding her wrists. "Your father's life is in danger," for the second time, his words had a startling effect on her. A thousand questions popped into her mind. Danger? What kind of danger? He was supposed to be protected! Was the Queen trying to harm him as well? Thinking that if her father was in danger then she would talk? And why wasn't Rumpelstiltskin fulfilling his deal of protection?! Was he that angry with her that he would break their deal? She had held up her end, and then some, so why wasn't he?!

This was a mess, all of it, it had been ever since the day she'd kissed him. And now her father was in danger too? She needed to get the Rumpelstiltskin, if he had protected those she loved once he could do it again. Not for nothing, she knew, but maybe if she promised to leave him alone, if she promised not to see him again as she'd been planning since her capture...the thought of purposefully never seeing him again broke her heart. But she need to protect those that she loved, and if that was how it was going to happen, then she would trade the man she loved but didn't want her for the family that she loved who did want her. She stared at the man with the Hook, willing him to give her more information. "He's being attacked by the very same monster that stole you away from your family in the first place," he explained quickly, honoring her silent request.

The words didn't shock her this time, but they did confuse her, "Rumpelstiltskin?" she had to clarify. It just seemed so absurd to her.

"The Dark One, he must be stopped," the man said freeing her and finally pulling her to her feet. This made no sense to her at all. Rumpelstiltskin was supposed to be protecting her family and friends. Why would he attack her father? Unless…unless he was trying to draw her out. Unless the Evil Queen hadn't informed him that she was holding her captive and he was searching for her, and knew no other way to get to her. He knew that she would come back for her friends and family, it was the brave thing to do. She could fix this. She would be a hero again! But she had to get to him first to do it!

"You spent more time with him than anyone," the man continued looking her in the eyes with desperation "There are rumors of a magical weapon that has the power to kill him-"

"No, no, no" she interrupted him. He was thinking about killing Rumpelstiltskin, it wasn't necessary! It was much simpler than that, "let, let me talk to him. He's not a monster," and if she was going to spend the rest of her life trying she would prove it one day to the world.

"Belle, your father's life hangs in the balance," he insisted a little more agitated than she thought he should be. It was her father not his! "I need to know where that weapon is and where to find it," he was desperate for it, she could tell that. But that very fact scared her beyond belief, she was starting to get the feeling that this man was not the 'friend' he introduced himself as. No one who wanted to use her to destroy Rumpelstiltskin was a friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I have no idea how to," she swallowed down her sneer the very thought, "how to kill Rumpelstiltskin," she yelled at him.

"You don't," his voice suddenly changed to surprise. And she saw in his gaze a flash of disappointment before hiding again behind shock. He really expected her to know how to kill him? Clearly he wasn't familiar with the man at all.

"No!" she yelled at him. "And, and, nor would I!" she screamed at the man who was definitely not a friend.

"Oh," the man looked like he was finally getting the idea, but she didn't want to work with him either way now. However, he was the lesser of two evils. He had freed her, and that was wonderful, but they needed to run and get away from the Evil Queen before she realized she was free. And then, once they were away from here she would escape from him, and get back to Rumpelstiltskin, as she'd intended. He might not want to see her, or love her, but he would protect her. The man in him wouldn't leave her in danger. Even if she never saw him again, she would be safe. "Well then," the man muttered, "I'm afraid I'm not here to rescue you." Her eyes widened as she saw him draw his hand back, she barely had a moment to think to move...before her world went dark.


	33. The End

Her cheek still stung.

It had been three days since she woke up to strange hands working on her face. When she opened her eyes she found an unfamiliar man squatting next to her pitiful excuse for a bed examining her sleeping form. She had immediately jumped away from him, untrusting of the stranger. Who was he? Why was he there? Then she'd remembered. The man. The one that came to see her. The one that told her Rumpelstiltskin was tormenting her father. Where was he? Had he been captured too? No. It took a second but she remembered. She'd told him she knew of no weapon that would destroy the Dark One. He'd told her that if she couldn't help him then he wouldn't rescue her. The last thing she remembered was his hand rearing back before her world went dark.

At the memory, she'd reached up to touch the painful cheek bone and the small man in her cell was quick to say "I wouldn't prod it, Princess," with a sneer. But it was too late, she'd already touched it and pain seared under her eye at even the lightest caress. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he chided in an unsympathetic tone as he tried to move a little closer to her.

She attempted to scramble further away from him, but her chains pulled painfully against her wrists, yanking on her joints, and holding her in place. When she glanced down at them she realized they had been shortened. Where she once had been able to get up and walk about the room, now all she could do was linger on her bed. She was trapped. It made her nervous as she stared at the unknown man before her. He didn't seem like a friendly or sympathetic man, but he also didn't give her the same horrible untrusting feeling the Evil Queen or the unknown man had. Their short encounter so far told her that he wouldn't free her, but he wasn't going to hurt her either. "Who are you?" she questioned, finally allowing the man to come a bit closer to her.

"I'm just a man," he said with an uninterested sigh, picking up a small tin of something pink colored that smelled faintly of roses. "I'm here to inspect your injuries," he explained as he rubbed his fingers in the substance that looked to be both liquid and solid, then raised his hand, she realized, to place it under her eye. She flinched away from his touch automatically again. Nothing good ever came from people touching her here. "I'm a doctor," he reassured her with an inpatient voice "I promise I'm not here to hurt you." Nevertheless, she refused to give into the stranger and turned her head so he couldn't get to the painful spot on her face. She'd take no kindness from the woman who had locked her up and she certainly wasn't going to let anyone touch her voluntarily. The room was quiet for a while before the man, the doctor finally seemed to understand her stubbornness. "Persistent," he sighed after a moment. "Very well. You're free to do it yourself. It's extract of a rare flower, it might make you a bit sleepy but it'll take the pain in your cheek away. You were fortunate he didn't break your bone."

His muttering finally made her glance back up at him. "Who was he?" she asked taking the container from his hand. "Is he gone?"

The man sneered again and pulled a small circular mirror from a leather bag. "Rest assured. You'll never see that pirate again."

"Pirate?"

He only held the mirror out to her. "Dab that on your cheek. Try not to get in any more trouble. Not that it should be very hard," he added glancing at her chains. Then without another word, he shouldered his bag and left her in the tower, the lock echoing loudly behind him. Her questions unanswered, her cheek throbbing, she glanced at the mirror in her hand. A memory, now nearly as painful as her aching cheek ripped through her heart.

He'd once told her never to own a mirror, or, if she had to possess one, to keep it covered. "You never know who might be looking back," he'd whispered in her ear. She forced the cryptic warning out of her head and glanced at herself in the mirror. Sure enough, her entire right check was black and blue. It appeared that the pirate had hit her so hard that the bruising reached into her eye socket and up the bridge of her nose. No wonder she hurt so much.

She'd learned nothing more about the man who visited her in the last three days. The only piece of information she'd managed was that he was a pirate. With nothing new learned, she tried not to dwell on it, every time she thought about it, it made her want to tear up with shame, embarrassment, and disappointment. How could she have been so foolish, how could she still be so optimistic after all of this to think that it was a strange man in black with a hook for a hand that would have freed her.

No one was coming for her. No one was going to free her. Maybe it would be better if she just accepted that instead of struggling to keep her frail hope alive.

Fortunately the substance that the doctor had left her with worked like a charm. It took away the pain in her cheek, but it also made her sleepy, and she found that sleep was a great escape from her bleak life. She curled up on her little "bed" and tried her hardest to ignore the feel of the shackles against her skin. She should be trying to chase away the memories of her times at the castle, of him, but it didn't help that the substance keeping her pain at bay smelled of roses. At times it seemed like all she could think of was memories of the flowers he'd set out on the table for her, the rose he'd given her before setting her free, the same rose that had sat on the table as she'd stormed out of the castle, never to see him again. Her eyes filled with tears again as the terrible thoughts threatened to spill over onto her pillow.

Where was he? Why hadn't he come for her? She'd felt so sure, just after she'd been brought here that he'd get her out of this cell. He might not want her, but she was certain that he wouldn't have wanted someone like her, who knew his secrets and his habits, out in the world in the hands of the Evil Queen. She didn't know what he would do with her once he had rescued her, but she assumed it would have been better than what she was living now. He would have placed her safely away in a house of some kind. Not with someone he trusted, because she knew that there was no one he did trust, but at least with someone who would have protected her from this ever happening again. It wouldn't have been ideal but it would have been something.

Her other hope for her life post-rescue had been much more optimistic. If he didn't have any where to take her, maybe he would have taken her back to the castle. Sure he would have locked her in the cell at first, just like before, but she would have gotten to him eventually. Whether he liked it or not he loved her, and she knew that eventually he would have let her out, they would have solved their problems. They would have been happy.

From outside she heard a rumble of what was probably thunder, and it brought her out of her hopeful thoughts and back the dark tower that was her prison back into the forefront of her mind.

He wasn't coming for her.

He wasn't going to free her.

Happy endings…if they did exist, it certainly wasn't in her future. He'd made sure of that.

She tried to roll over but the chains binding her to the bed prevented the action. It was a small thing, but it was just enough to expel the tears that had been gathering in her eyes and send them rolling down her cheeks and falling onto her pillow with light but still deafening "plops".

It was hopeless.

Another roll of thunder echoed through her empty prison and she couldn't help but give a small chuckle. Of course it was raining. Here she sat chained to a bed, held against her will in the highest tower, nearly devoid of all hope, and it sounded like it was going to pour any second. How fitting for her current situation.

She reached for the mirror and tin that she'd been keeping under her bed. Maybe sleeping through it would be a better option. Maybe when she woke up she'd feel better. Maybe when she woke up the sun would be out, her cheek would be tolerable enough that she wouldn't need to put on the rose scented cure, and maybe then she could build up her courage, and get her hope back.

She held the circular mirror in her hand and gazed into it, wishing beyond all sensibility that the reflection she saw in it would be his. If ever she needed for a mirror to be a window into her life it was now. She stared into it, willing it, praying that she might see something in it. She focused so hard that her head began to pound. But still, the only face she saw was her own. Suddenly she gasped as a new pain coursed through her hand. She'd been holding the mirror too tight and the edges had dug into her fingers just enough to draw a thin line of blood from each digit. She hadn't realized how sharp the little scrap was around the edges, and she certainly didn't think that it had been sharp enough to act as a weapon against her.

An idea sprung into her thoughts so suddenly she didn't have time to prepare for it or to plan for it. Her eyes widened as she stared down at the little mirror in her hands. She'd been given no weapon, nothing to defend herself with, nothing to free herself with. She'd been waiting up here waiting for someone to rescue her, what if she didn't need to wait. What if the doctor had given her the tool she needed all along. It was a long shot. She knew that it was a pitiful plan with more loopholes than reassurances…but it was something. Could she figure out a way to smash the mirror, could she figure out a way to get a piece of it that would allow her to pick the lock on her chains? Could she get a piece big enough to help her fight her way out of this place.

Her stomach turned at the idea of harming someone. But then again, maybe she didn't need to harm anyone, exactly. Maybe she just needed to overwhelm the guards. There were only two at her door she'd managed to figure that much out by now. If she could just get free, then get by them, she could leave. It wouldn't be easy but she was small, and she'd mastered the art of being quiet and discreet when she'd been at her father's palace. She just knew, if she could get out of this room, she could get free. And she knew just where she was going to go when she got free. This time it wasn't just because she wanted to, it was also because she needed to.

If she did manage to get free it wouldn't be long before the Evil Queen noticed her absence and began her search. She would need someone to protect her if she didn't want to end up back here, or in a place far worse. Her father, Gaston, Mulan, no one would be strong enough to keep her safe from reliving this fate. Except for him. At the very least, she'd insist that he do something to keep this from happening again. It would be her way back into his life. It would be freedom. It would be…

Another rumble from the world outside the walls of her jail made her pause in making her plans. Almost immediately, a louder roll washed over the space, causing the walls to shake and the bed to rattle against the floor. It sounded as if the storm was right on top of them…but then where was the rain? Where was the wind? All she could hear was the sound of that powerful thunder rattling around them. Another burst of it rocked her tower so violently that the bed actually moved. What was going on outside?

Suddenly there was a groan that drew her attention to the domed ceiling above her. She glanced up and held her breath as the roof beams sounded like they were stretching and flexing. That couldn't be good, she'd been up here long enough to experience a storm or two, they were never pleasant but the roof never made those noises either. Despite the rattling and groaning the room seemed too still and the only sound she was really conscious of was her breath and the pounding of her heart. Something was happening. She could feel it. But what?

There was a sound, sharper than thunder, it cracked and she watched as before her eyes the roof came apart shingle by shingle and purple clouds were revealed in the sky. Her eyes went wide and she screamed and covered her head, an instinct to protect her against falling debris, but none came. When she glanced up she could see those ominous purple clouds. It was no storm that she'd ever seen before, and she had the sudden impression that it wasn't the tower the storm craved, it was her. As the smoke filled the room she dove under the bed, fear made her body shake as she thought she heard the sound of the tower being taken apart, stone by stone. She wanted so badly to run, but her chains held her in that place, making escape impossible. She was easy prey for the unknown force that seemed intent on killing her.

It was a tragedy that she would die here, like this, without ever truly getting the chance to fight for what she wanted. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and pictured him in her mind's eye. Even in separation and anger, he was her one comfort in the eye of the storm. If she was going to die she wanted to die recalling the happiest memories she had of her life, she never wanted to forget any of the moments they'd spent together, she never wanted to forget…

There was silence and then…_there was nothing._


	34. Authors Note

Hey ya'll! Since the series is still running and I'm doing my best to keep it as accurate as possible there is always the chance that I will have to add another chapter or two to this story to do that (course that also means I might have to delete or edit some but I really hope not and I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. This story will continued to be labeled as "complete" but if I need to add a chapter (never fear it'll happen over the summer) I'll place it after this note for a week or so and then move it into the appropriate spot on the timeline. If we should get another storyline or past centric episode for Belle (something that requires a lot of chapters) I'll post them all at the end before I move them all together. It's not a big thing but it'll make the "new chapters" easier to find. I won't make note of the other changes or deletions though, just the new stuff. I'll also do the same for Seen and Unseen and Moments Missed.

So for the record here's the reading order again!

**Moments Known and Unknown**-Takes place from the moment Belle meets Rumple in her fathers castle to the moment the curse hits.

**Moments Seen and Unseen**-Belle's perspective of season 2 (and the bit from 1). Starts with Belle in the Asylum ends with Rumple leaving for Neverland.

**Moments Missed**-The companion piece to Seen and Unseen, all of Lacey's memories. Begins with Regina giving Belle Lacey and ends with Rumple bringing Belle back. It will begin to be released chapter by chapter December 17th and posts will be made Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday so that it is posted in time for the second half of season three

**Moments Shared and Unshared**-Belle's persepective of season 3. Will start with the moments after Rumple left for Neverland and end where ever season 3 ends.

Hope to see you December 17th (and I kinda hope people will review Known and Unknown since it went up all at once)!


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